The Oracle
by Starway Man
Summary: Spike and Drusilla show up in Sunnydale over a year early. How will the lives of Scooby Gang turn out? (COMPLETE)
1. Summer Daze

**Date written:** 24 Jan 2016

 **Author:** Starway Man

 **Email:** theop at hotkey dot net dot au

 **Acknowledgments:** Thanks to Ironbear, Alkeni and Greywizard for beta'ing this fanfic. And thanks to Buffyworld, too, for the episode transcripts consulted in the writing of this story.

 **Category:** AU, Action, Adventure, Angst, Romance

 **Symbols:** "word" indicates speech, { _word_ } indicates thoughts, and [ word ] indicates mental communication.

 **Feedback:** As they say, it's the coin of the realm. Well, either that or gold-pressed latinum! So please tell me what you thought of it.

 **Disclaimer:** It has been said that no one truly owns anything. However, that statement obviously wasn't made by a lawyer! Consequently, for the record I will state that I do not own any of the Buffy and Angel references, they belong to Joss and his gang of writer idi... er, geniuses, and all associated entities. And those parts of the story that are more or less taken from the BTVS novel, "Spark and Burn," obviously belong to Diana G. Gallagher. All references to the novel "Blackout" belong to Keith R.A. DeCandido, and the reference to Geoffrey Wyndam-Pryce comes from the comic "Angel: Blood & Trenches." Anything else you recognize, it belongs to whichever legal entity owns it. This is a work of fanfiction, and no remuneration is expected or will be received.

 **Author Notes:** This story was originally inspired by Doodled93's excellent fanfic, "Truth In Madness". If you haven't read it, I definitely suggest you give it a try!

 **Rating:** Overall R, most parts PG-13

 **Warning:** Some very adult situations/concepts and bad language are present in this story. So if you're underage, don't read this!

 **Summary:** Spike and Drusilla show up in Sunnydale over a year early. How will the lives of Scooby Gang turn out?

 **Title:** The Oracle

* * *

"Well, that works out well, because I talk much."

(Xander Harris, BUFFY THE VAMPIRE SLAYER) 

"All of a sudden, rich and handsome isn't enough for me. Now I expect a guy to be all brave and interesting."

(Cordelia Chase, ANGEL) 

"I speak prophecies. The oracle spirit kind of hijacks me once in a while."

(Rachel Elizabeth Dare, THE LOST HERO)

* * *

 **Chapter One: Summer Daze**

 **Marseilles, France**

 **June 21** **st** **, 1996**

No other place on Earth does sordid quite like Marseilles.

That was one part of the reason why the vampires known as Spike and Drusilla were present here, at this point in time. The other part was that Spike knew how Drusilla simply couldn't stand Paris, for some reason, and so this particular burg was much better for keeping his sire happy during their European 'vacation.'

But even the most sordid of cities can't hold a vampire's interest forever –

"So what do ya reckon, luv? Should we head off to Prague next, then?" Spike asked.

"NO, NO, NO!" Drusilla suddenly screamed loudly into the sultry midsummer's eve, as Spike looked at her in alarm.

"Wot's wrong, luv, what's the matter?" the bleached-blond vampire asked at once, instinctively looking around to see if they were under attack. Spike very much doubted that his beloved would have had such an extreme reaction to his suggestion of visiting the Czech Republic, anyway.

Then he saw the look on Drusilla's face, it was something he had seen before. Many times. His beloved had obviously had some sort of vision of the future –

"It's not s'posed to be like that! The stars aren't happy no more, Spoike, they whisper such 'orribly wicked things to Miss Edith! Horrible things 'bout you – and oh, my, the Kitten too! And a very naughty girl! But red in tooth and claw, like ripe, bleeding tomatoes..." Dru trailed off, suddenly looking confused.

{ _Eh? Something bad's gonna happen to me? And a kitten? And a naughty girl? Sodding heck. What's she goin' on about?_ } Spike thought to himself in confusion, before he focused and said comfortingly, "There, there, now, ducks. It's alright, talk to me – what are the, uh, stars sayin' we need to do, exactly?"

"Not the stars, my precious Spoike. The moon, it says we need to find Grandmother," Drusilla replied, looking up at the lunar object in question.

Spike grimaced at the mention of his great-grandsire. "Darla? Why do we need to track 'er down for?"

"We have to. We have to. We have to," Drusilla chanted, before the dark-haired vampiress started glaring at Spike. Not unlike like an unruly child who was determined to get its own way against a stern parent.

{ _Bloody hell,_ } Spike mentally grumbled, before he suddenly realized something. "Hang about, luv – few years ago, didn't Darla go back to hanging 'round the ugly ol' pillock who turned her? That so-called Master?"

"Oh, yes! Great-grandfather's asleep right now, far away in the dale of the sun, but Grandmother's still bein' a dutiful daughter of the manor. Oooh," Drusilla said in a somewhat dreamy way, her head now swaying from side to side. "Eventually Daddy will be there, too! 'Ow lovely..."

"Great," Spike grumbled, remembering that meeting with his grandsire aboard that cramped and smelly submarine during 1943. { _That's all I need, Angelus orderin' me around like that again!_ } "Look, pet, are ya sure about this? I mean, wouldn't ya prefer a quick jaunt to –"

"NO!" Drusilla roared, before her face vamped out and her hands became claws. She viciously slapped him across the face, drawing blood. "Bad dog, arguing with Mummy!"

Spike growled at her – an animalistic, feral noise deep down from the base of his throat – before Dru abruptly resumed her human mask, pouting at him, the anger vanishing as abruptly as it appeared. "Don't you love me anymore, my sweet Willy?"

"'Course I do, Dru," Spike said as he calmed himself down, before using a finger to wipe the blood off his cheek and then licking his own finger clean. "And whatever my dark goddess wants, she gets! C'mon, then..."

The two undead things headed for the local docks, Spike quickly deciding to find a ship heading for the U.S. to fulfill Drusilla's desires.

* * *

 **Sunnydale, California**

 **A while earlier**

Xander Harris honestly wasn't sure how he'd managed to end up alone with Cordelia Chase today.

Except, maybe sorta, he actually did.

He'd been waiting for his friends, Willow Rosenberg and Jesse McNally, at Playa Linda Beach earlier this morning. They were all supposed to meet up and have _**fun**_ together on the longest day of the year, dagnabbit! But both Willow and Jesse had been a complete no-show.

His best female bud had most likely managed to get herself distracted by some summer project or other, and lost all track of time. Xander figured that later today, around five or six o'clock, Willow would probably look up, frown as if trying to remember something important, before smacking herself on the forehead and going 'oh no!' And then she'd be all apologies later on, when she called him on the phone – or when she hunted him up at his house tomorrow morning, more likely.

Xander sighed. At least the odds were that Willow wouldn't try to pull out the Resolve Face in order to get him to forgive her for not showing up today. Because he didn't have the heart to tell her that the Resolve Face hadn't really worked on either him or Jesse since they were ten years old.

And speaking of his best male friend... well, _**he**_ had probably been shanghaied by his folks into doing his chores at home, or else Willow had sucked Jesse into helping her out on whatever she was up to – or, possibly, the guy had gotten sidetracked by a luscious pair of breasts at the mall, and subsequently wandered off after the girl in question.

(And if that was the case, Xander couldn't really blame him. Ever since the start of freshman year, he'd done that once or twice himself. Despite the risk of a restraining order, or worse.)

Still, just before he'd left the beach in order to mope at home, he'd run into the one and only Queen C of Sunnydale High. And damned if Cordelia hadn't somehow achieved Junior Penthouse Model status, since he'd last seen her in a bathing suit!

Not that he'd told her that, of course – what with the bad mood the girl had been in...

Apparently, she'd been stood up in almost the exact same way he himself had been. Her cousins Tim and Miranda had been grounded, thanks to a wild party they'd thrown while their parents were away in Sacramento, and Tim had forgotten to tell Cordelia that neither he nor his sister would be able to meet up with her today.

The worst part was that Cordy had deliberately ditched all her popular friends for some quality family time. And after learning it was all for nothing? Well, _**that**_ had made the Queen of Mean seriously and _**totally**_ pissed!

At the time, Xander had asked himself why the heck he hadn't simply offered Cordelia a few choice insults and then left. But deep down, he knew the answer to that – he simply couldn't resist a good snark-fest with that girl. Nor she with him. Their verbal stoushes had become, like, traditional or something. And it wasn't like he had anything else to do at that point.

Well, one thing had led to another and for some reason, he had ended up inviting Cordelia to lunch at the nearby Fat Burger. Probably temporary insanity. Still, he'd set off for the fast food establishment, and before long she had followed after him.

Not without Cordy complaining loudly about the injustice of her entire day being shot to hell, granted, or telling him how the only thing worse than being seen having lunch with a known loser was being seen having lunch, all by yourself –

Oddly, lunch hadn't been too bad once he'd managed to shove some food down his throat and Cordelia had done likewise. Not that she ever ate like a pig, of course – she was Cordelia Chase, and she didn't _**do**_ stuff like that. Xander had been somewhat surprised over how they'd actually managed to have a civilized conversation for the first time in maybe seven years, before realizing that neither of them had any plans for the day any longer.

"Tell you what," Harris said to his reluctant lunch date with a smirk, before withdrawing a dime from his pocket. "How about a coin toss to decide what we do for the rest of the Solstice holiday?"

"What's all this 'we' stuff, Dweeb? What makes you think I'm even interestedin hanging with you after lunch?" Cordelia asked, raising a perfectly plucked eyebrow.

"Because you're bored and you've got nothing to do today, Cor – otherwise, we wouldn't be having this conversation," Xander pointed out, which made the girl scowl at him in annoyance. "Anyway, if you win, we'll do whatever you want. Which, knowing you, probably means me being your pack mule while you go shopping at the mall! But if I win..."

"Yeah?"

"You come with me to find Jesse. He, uh, he wants to ask you out on a date Saturday night," Xander said in a rush, hoping for the best while preparing himself for the worst. Namely, the imminent arrival of Hurricane Cordelia.

And sure enough, she didn't disappoint.

"You want me to _**what?!**_ " Cordelia jumped up from her seat at their patio lunch table, her hazel eyes blazing.

"Oh, come on! I mean Jesse's a great guy, if you just gave him a chance –" Xander started to say pleadingly, as he got up from his chair as well.

"As if!" the young woman interrupted fiercely. "Seriously, Dimwit; what in God's name makes you think I'd _**ever**_ date the acne-faced creep who's practically my stalker!? I'd rather date _**you**_ , if it ever came down to a so-horrible choice between two such pathetic geeks!"

"Well, gee. Don't do me any favors, then," Xander told her angrily, before looking around at all the people staring at them. "Oh, geez..."

Cordelia abruptly realized she was also the focus of unwelcome public attention; and almost visibly steaming, she strode away. Xander hurried to catch up to her outside the fast food establishment, reaching out to grab her tanned, graceful-looking arm. "Hey, wait up –"

" _ **Don't**_ touch me, Doofus!" the brunette hissed angrily. Cordelia turned and glared heatedly at him, as Xander immediately let go of her. "What the hell was I thinking, that I could actually spend some time with you – without you trying to pimp me out to your best friend?!"

{ _Okay, now that hurt._ } "I'm no pimp, Cor. And at least I have a best friend," Harris told her icily. "Why the hell else do you think I'd ask you for something like that, huh? And just between us – I think Jesse could do a lot better than you, even if he's way too blind to see it!"

 _ **WHAP!**_

"How _**dare**_ you say something like that to me?!" Cordelia yelled angrily, after she'd viciously slapped him. "You, you – peon!"

Xander rubbed his cheek in annoyance. "Oh, right, here we go with the insults again. Even if you're obviously not at your bitchiest best, right at the moment."

Eyes blazing all over again, Cordelia said roughly, "Oh yeah? Then I got two words for ya, skeezoid – Bite. Me!"

"No way. There's no telling what I might catch," Xander told her, and then he quickly ducked as she furiously tried to slap him again.

"Stand still, you lamer!" Cordelia shouted, as she continued trying to slap him silly.

"Okay, okay, enough! Cordelia, I'm sorry if I upset you by implying that you don't have any real friends," Harris said hurriedly, even as he moved to safe distance. "And I'm likewise sorry about that crack regarding whether you've got any sort of disease as well. That was majorly out of line, and I apologize for it. All right?"

Cordelia looked to be of two minds on whether to turn around and stalk off in an angry sulk – but much to Xander's surprise, she eventually huffed and said, "Fine. Apology accepted, whatever. Just don't do something like that again, Harris. And I mean it – _**never again!**_ "

"Alright, fine." { _And sorry, buddy, but from now on you're strictly on your own in trying to catch the interest of Her Royal Bitca-ness!_ } "I solemnly swear that I will not attempt to fix you up with Jesse again, in any way, shape or form. Cross my heart and hope to wear Prada," Xander promised, putting a hand over his heart.

"As if you would ever wear anything made by those people!"

"Fine, would you accept Payless instead?"

Cordy snorted, shaking her head. "I wouldn't accept anything from you, Dork, unless my life depended on it! Like, literally!"

Xander exhaled. "Whatever." He brought out the dime again and flicked it upwards, before catching the spinning coin and slapping it down on the back of his hand. "You call it."

"Uh, heads!" Cordelia said hastily. Before Xander could take his hand off the coin though, she added, "Oh, wait – I mean, what happens if you win? Because like I said – that whole date thing with McNally is _**so**_ not happening!"

Xander shrugged. "How about we spend the day at the Palisades Fair, you know – the circus that set up shop not far from Kingman's Bluff?" Without waiting for a reply, he lifted his hand and showed her the coin.

"Damn it!" Cordelia cursed, seeing the olive branch, torch and oak branch instead of the image of Franklin D. Roosevelt. "Oh, fine. May as well spend the day there, after all – I'm already saddled with one of its clowns!"

Xander looked hurt, as they started walking towards the nearby taxi rank. "Hey! I am so _**not**_ a clown! Clowns are nightmarish evil, I'll have ya know..."

* * *

 **Not far from Kingman's Bluff, Sunnydale**

 **A few hours later**

Cordelia had to admit it, if only to herself – the Palisades Fair was a lot more fun than she'd expected it to be.

So far, she and Xander had visited the petting zoo and the Banana Derby where monkeys raced around on the backs of dogs. They had also gone on camel rides, a roller coaster and even a Lost World safari tour with all sorts of prehistoric animatronic mammals. Plus there had been a trapeze act, an illusionist act, and even a shooting gallery...

(And she was _ **so**_ not smirking over the fact that Xander had failed to win anything before claiming the sights on the .22 rifle had to be crooked, and she'd stepped up and instantly won herself a stuffed brown Gund bear.)

And the best part was that no one she knew had actually _**seen**_ her spending the day with the Lamest of Lameoids, from Planet Lame. Or that she was actually having fun doing so –

Huh. Well, maybe 'fun' wasn't exactly the right word. 'A passably good time' was probably a better way to put it. Wouldn't want to give the Dweeb any ideas, after all.

"Okay, so, what now?" Xander asked, holding her stuffed bear with the air of a man who was suffering stoically. God bless those unwritten rules stating that a guy had to carry such things for the lady faire in public! "Wanna visit the aquarium exhibit?"

"No, I don't feel like doing anything that's water-related. And for the record? I don't know _**what**_ you were thinking, suggesting I get on that water-dunking platform earlier on!"

"What?" Xander asked innocently. "You can't tell me that you wouldn't have liked to see me demonstrate my old Little League pitcher prowess, can you? Back in second grade, remember, when we were friends – you used to cheer me on all the time!"

"That's, like, irrelevant! And don't think I didn't figure out how your teeny-tiny, so-perverted Harris brain just wanted to see me end up in the water – half-naked, and completely wet!" Cordy briefly glared at him.

"Not like every other guy at school wouldn't enjoy seeing that, including Jesse," Xander nodded affably, before noticing her glare intensify. "Ah, I shouldn't mention his name again?"

"Not if you ever want to go out on a date with someone other than an _**inflatable doll!**_ "

"Hey, now that's just too cruel!" Xander briefly scrunched up his nose. Then Cordelia's heart sank, as the jerk's face suddenly lit up like a beacon and she saw what he was pointing at. "Okay, that's our next stop!"

"Oh, no – no way!" Cordelia immediately shook her head, reading the sign outside the fortune-teller's tent. "Xander, I am _**not**_ going to listen to some damn charlatan telling me my fortune!"

"Why not?" Xander had a surprised look on his face. "I mean, what's the dire?"

Cordelia sighed and briefly glared at him. "Alright, look. If I tell you, then you damn well have to promise to keep it a secret. Understood? Not even the nerd and the idiot you call your best friends hear about this from you, or I _**will**_ make your life a living hell for the next three years at Sunnydale High! Comprendez?"

Dork Boy shrugged. "Fine. Not one word will pass my lips regarding the secrets of Cordelia Rose Chase to my best buds. This I swear, by the Almighty Twinkie."

She rolled her eyes and sighed again, before deciding to accept his oath of silence. "My mother... she got taken in once by this so-called psychic. When Daddy found out what was going on, he was like totally furious – and my parents had a _**huge**_ fight about it! It got so bad that for a while there, I actually thought..." Cordelia trailed off, looking away.

"Divorce?" Xander asked quietly. Off her nod, he shrugged. "Yeah, well, been there. Lost track of all the times I thought my mom and dad would give up and call it quits, myself. But hey; my parents are still together and so are yours, right? So..."

"It was one of the worst times of my life," Cordelia said, as if he hadn't said anything. She looked up at Harris and added, "Do you remember that Saturday you found me alone at Weatherly Park? I was sitting on the swings crying my eyes out, and you came up and asked me what was wrong... and I made up some lame excuse or other. And then you actually tried to cheer me up, even though we hated each other by then!"

Xander had a stunned look on his face. "Oh. Wow. I mean, yeah, I remember that. And, uh, I guess congratulations are in order; you sure fooled me that day. Good job!" He hesitantly gave her two thumbs-up. Then the Dumbass said more gently, "Okay, then, let's skip the fortune-teller; I'm sure there's lot of other sideshow attractions here –"

"No. On second thoughts, let's do this," Cordelia abruptly decided, grabbing his right hand and dragging the guy towards the tent in question. "'Cause I need to face my demons one day, and I may as well do it sooner rather than later!"

"Ow, ow, ow! Cordy? You got major grip, ya know!" Xander complained, as she yanked him inside the tent with her.

The interior was dark and full of incense odors, pretty much as Cordelia had expected. There was a plain table with a crystal ball in the middle of it, and a couple of wicker chairs on the opposite side of the fortune-teller. She wrinkled her nose at the sight of the black woman...

{ _Let's see. Puffy shirt, cream color, plus a corset and layered skirts. Large purple head scarf, plus huge hoop earrings. Leather knee-high boots. Oh, yeah, color me surprised by the clothing ensemble!_ } Cordelia thought to herself in annoyance.

"Welcome. I am Madam Devora. Please be seated," the fortune-teller told both teens in a calm, melodious voice.

"Uh, I don't think we're gonna be here long enough for –" Xander started to say.

"Yes you will," Madam Devora interrupted him. "You are the Defender of Mankind, after all."

"What? HIM?" Cordelia demanded in sheer incredulity, before darting a look at Xander's semi-annoyed features. She then said Madam Devora, "Oh, come on! Xander can't even defend _**himself**_ from the bullies like Tor Hauer and Kyle DuFours!"

"I was referring to his name, Alexander. It comes from the Greek; _alexein_ , to protect, and _aner_ , man. Thus, the protector or defender of men," the fortune-teller replied with perfect equanimity.

"And, uh, how exactly did you know my name, before Cordy sorta mentioned it?" Xander asked, looking puzzled. "I mean, we've never met before. Have we?"

"No. And as for how I knew that – like the sign says outside, I'm psychic," Madam Devora sent him a slight smile.

"Look, before this goes any further? I'd just like to say there is absolutely no evidence to support that clairvoyance of any kind actually exists. So that means you're a fraud, your profession is a swindle, and your livelihood is dependent on the gullibility of stupid people. No personal offense intended," Cordelia said, with a slight shrug and absolutely no sense of tact.

"Very little taken," Madam Devora said, giving her another calm look – even as Xander stared at her in stunned disbelief. "Sit. I'd like to do a reading on you, as well as your gentleman friend."

"Oh, we're not friends. I mean, Cordy and I haven't been friends since –" Xander started to say, as he and Cordelia sat down on the two chairs.

"Since the third grade, when you spilled that chocolate milkshake down the front of her brand new formal dress," Madam Devora interrupted, briefly closing her eyes. "And for whatever it's worth, she didn't actually intend for your nose to get broken – when her fist crashed into your face immediately afterwards."

"Wow, you're good!" Xander said with a big smile, as Cordelia started to feel uncomfortable about what was happening here. "Lemme guess; one of our classmates has been here today, and told you about that? There was quite a big audience when that happened, way back when." He then said laughingly, "Okay, we've done the past – so, uh, what does the future hold?"

"You spirit guides are telling me that there are two paths available for both of you," the fortune-teller said, leaning forward and staring into the crystal ball.

"Yeah, well, my spirit guides can go suck," Cordelia replied dismissively, tossing her chestnut-colored hair to one side.

"Aw, never mind her. So what are these, uh, spirit guides, what are they telling you about Cordelia's future?" Xander asked, still looking amused.

Madam Devora opened her eyes and stared at the female teen. "Are you sure that you want for him to hear this? Most of my clients prefer such information to remain private, after all."

"Well, since all of this is complete hokum, what the hell! Hit me," Cordelia said, raising both eyebrows.

"Very well." Madam Devora briefly closed her eyes and then opened them again, before saying, "In one path, your life will be filled with sorrow, heartbreak and tragedy. Poverty and pain will replace wealth and luxury for you, soon enough. And you will die young – a needless, horrible death in Los Angeles, in less than a decade's time."

Her heart instantly filled with rage, Cordelia might have gotten up and actually punched the fortune-teller – but she found her left hand tightly gripped in Xander's right one, and then she saw him shake his head at her, silently urging her not to do it. { _Yeah, damn it, he's right – I don't want to give this_ _ **bitch**_ _the satisfaction of letting her know how much she's getting to me! Or hit my parents with a lawsuit, whatever._ }

"Well, maybe it's just me – but all that sounds like it really sucks," Xander said, all the humor now gone from his voice. "So, uh, what about the other path?"

"Marriage, roughly two and a half years after receiving her high school diploma. Children, grandchildren, and even great-grandchildren, after roughly a century of life," Madam Devora replied, briefly closing her eyes again.

"Well, that doesn't sound so bad," Cordelia shrugged, privately admitting to herself that if nothing else, this so-called mystic was one hell of an actress...

"Indeed. But you should be aware that he is the man you would eventually marry, and procreate with, before deciding whether that's true," Madam Devora gestured casually in Xander's direction.

"ME?!" Xander's eyes almost literally bulged out in disbelief.

"HIM?! Okay, that's it! I'm outta here," Cordelia angrily shook off Xander's hand and got up, heading for the tent flap. "And FYI? There is no way in _**hell**_ I'd ever marry this jerk! Not even if Loser Boy was, like, the last man on Earth!" She then stormed out, metaphorical storm clouds gathering around her head.

* * *

 **Fortune-teller's tent, Palisades Fair**

 **A moment later**

Xander watched Cordelia exit the tent, feeling somewhat stung by the whole 'last man on Earth' comment – before he quickly dismissed the Cordy-ism, and then turned back to Madam Devora.

"Look, no offense. But you _**really**_ need to work on your sales pitch, if you're gonna just make stuff up like that! Anyway, how much do I owe ya?" He reached into his back pocket, and pulled out his wallet. "Uh, it said five bucks per reading outside, right? So, here ya go. And sheesh – now I gotta chase after Cordy, make sure she doesn't do anything –"

"You need not fear, she will be fine – for now. And don't you wish to know what the future holds for you, as well?" Madam Devora interrupted.

Xander shrugged, standing up from the chair. "Didn't we go through this already? Marriage, kids, yadda yadda yadda. Although if ya wanted to be convincing, you shoulda come up with someone other than me as Chase husband material! I mean, you heard her, right? Ain't no _**way**_ Cordy would ever buy that one!"

"Perhaps, perhaps not. But as I said, I saw two paths for the both of you. And whilst in that one you would be joined with her in holy matrimony for all those decades, until death finally did you part, the other road you could travel..." Madam Devora trailed off, as Xander glanced at her impatiently from the opening to the tent.

"Yeah? What happens to me, if Cordelia doesn't end up Mrs. Xander Harris?" he asked impatiently.

"Grief, anguish and a love cursed right from the start. Pain, from a gouged-out left eye. And an ignored and ignominious death in Africa, roughly a year after the girl who just left dies in the City of Angels," Madam Devora told him bluntly.

Xander paused, staring at the fortune-teller in pure disbelief. Shaking his head, he said, "Unbelievable..." and he attempted to leave –

– only for _**something**_ to drag him back inside the tent, and deposit him into his chair.

"What the fu –" Xander started to say, looking completely dumbfounded. He then demanded of Madam Devora, "Hey, how did you do that?"

" _There are more things in Heaven and Earth, Defender of Mankind, than are dreamt of in your philosophy. At least, in your current one,"_ Madam Devora replied – but in a strange, reverberating voice that gave Xander a definite case of the creeps. He then saw her reach down for something underneath the table, before placing it on the tabletop.

It was a plain wooden cup, dull brown in appearance.

"What's that supposed to mean? And what's with the cup, and the Deep Throat imitation?" Harris asked, ignoring the telekinesis act for the moment.

Madam Devora didn't reply. She just reached down out of sight again, and quickly placed a jug of muddy water onto the table. She then took hold of the cup and slowly, carefully poured the brown-colored liquid within the jug into it.

" _Drink, if you wish and think you should,"_ the fortune-teller said in that disturbing, echoing voice.

"Are you kidding me? I mean – what is that, well water? It looks like it's more well than water, anyway," Xander said with distaste.

" _Look closer."_

Harris peered down into the cup itself, and to his astonishment, the cup was full of clear, almost sparkling liquid instead of the brown muck he'd been expecting. "Wow! I said it before and I'll say it again, you're good. Okay, but what's all this for?"

" _All is not as it should be. The forces of darkness seek to gain advantage and bring about the end of the world, thanks to the mad Seer who will arrive here much earlier than was previously ordained. The balance is disrupted – which is where_ _ **you**_ _come in. The choice is yours, Defender of Mankind – drink, or not. But know that the fate of your world depends on what choice you make, here and now."_

Xander immediately burst out laughing, he simply couldn't help himself. Then he said, "Yeah, right, that's a good one! What next, lady, you're gonna say 'do or do not, there is no try'? Oh, what the hell, I guess I paid good money for this –"

He brought the cup to his lips, and took a small sip of the water therein. He frowned at the taste, before taking a deeper gulp of the stuff. And then another, and another. In a few moments, he had drained the cup dry.

"What the – why did I-?" Xander suddenly started to feel woozy, even as he asked Madam Devora the half-formed question.

" _You have chosen wisely – thus, the new future has now taken root in the present. And for all the rest of your days, you shall be My Voice. My Speaker. My Oracle!"_

Everything went as dark as a Witches' Sabbath, and Alexander LaVelle Harris collapsed to the ground – completely unconscious.

* * *

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **June 22** **nd** **, 1996**

As the midnight hour arrived, the two vampires called Darla and Luke paused in their seemingly never-ending argument – when the Master suddenly arose from his pool of blood.

Once known as the only man ever born without a soul, back when he was human, the Master had for centuries been the head of a group of vampires called the Order of Aurelius. He was devoted to evil ritual and prophecy. He had also been entombed here for the past six decades, given that he had been devoted to bringing back the Old Ones (the pure demons that had ruled the Earth, millions of year ago) and initiating the extermination of humanity. However, he had failed in the attempt –

– and he had gotten stuck here in this church, which had been buried in the earthquake of 1937 along with him. Imprisoned by mystical forces, unable to leave his underground cage, the Master had survived this long by entering into a state of suspended animation.

But now the sleeper had awoken, and long before Luke and Darla had expected it.

"Master!" both undead things exclaimed, immediately dropping to one knee.

"Forgive us, Master. We were not expecting your arrival for another six moons, at least," Darla said deferentially.

"What is your command, Master?" Luke asked, his head likewise bowed.

"Arise, both of you," the Master said, looking distracted. He tested the strength of his cage, but the invisible force field was still as strong as ever. Mentally cursing, the vampire then said, "Bring me a fresh meal. And as for why I have awoken – something is different now, here, on the Hellmouth. I can _**feel**_ it. And whatever else it may be – I strongly suspect it is our enemy..."

TBC...


	2. Unwelcome Visitors

**Chapter Two: Unwelcome Visitors**

 **Grand Port Maritime de Marseille, France**

 **June 22** **nd** **, 1996**

* * *

"My apologies, but there are no ships departing for the United States at the present time," the harbormaster said with a twang-y French accent, looking bored as Spike glowered at him menacingly.

"Wot? Speak English, mate. Can't understand a word you're sayin'," the male vampire replied, one arm curling around Drusilla's waist. It was a lie, as Spike could speak the French language fluently – a well-educated gentleman back in nineteenth century England, as a human William had been taught the Gallic tongue during childhood – but then he wasn't about to admit that to this bloody tosser.

In Spike's view, the French were already too damn arrogant as it was.

The harbormaster sent him a look that just screamed 'uncouth British pig' – but then the man repeated his statement in heavily accented English, "I said zat zere are no ships departeeng for ze United States at ze present time, monsieur."

"Why the effin' hell not?" Spike demanded belligerently.

"Hush, my darling Willy," Drusilla said, patting his arm. She then said in French, "Please forgive him, for my beloved is very concerned about how I will cope with our upcoming voyage."

The harbormaster immediately smiled and said gallantly in the same language, "Ah, I understand completely. And since this concerns an affair of the heart, all is of course forgiven." He then switched back to English, "Unfortunately, madame, ze problem ees zat zere are no ships in Marseille-Fos Port zat will set sail for your desired destination anytime soon. Ze earliest arrival is –" He shuffled some papers for a few moments, "– ze freighter named _Quintessa_ , which ees carrying medical waste as a cargo and –"

"When's it arrive, then?" Spike interrupted, already sick of all the delays.

"Eet is due in our port wizin three days," the harbormaster added, looking at Drusilla and pointedly ignoring Spike. "However, eet will not set sail again for at least a week. And since ze transatlantic voyage will take sixteen to nineteen days, perhaps you should consider flying to ze United States, if zis is an emergency of some sort?"

"Can't fly, dearie," Dru replied in a sing-song sort of voice, "the nasty sunlight might burn us, no matter 'ow careful we were..."

The Frenchman frowned upon hearing Drusilla's words, before confusion turned into horror – as both vampires went into demon face, and lunged for his neck.

The human's death screams went unheard, as no one else was present in the office this late after sunset; and Spike thoroughly enjoyed his evening meal.

Well, at least before his sire started screaming something about a 'dark lady' and a 'new future' or some such thing –

* * *

 **17619 Whiteoak Drive, Sunnydale**

 **A few hours later**

Saturday night in the Harris household usually meant making himself scarce thanks to his parents eventually having a very loud, drunken fight – and so, Xander was currently alone in his room. Reading a comic book, and trying to ignore the hunger pains in his stomach.

After he had woken up alone in the fortune-teller's tent yesterday, Xander had left and gone home; and he had decided to put everything that had happened in there behind him. As far as he was concerned, it had all been an incredibly good trick of some sort, and nothing more.

Granted, he didn't know how Madam Devora had pulled off what she'd done, or even _**why**_ : but he had concluded that he officially didn't care. And that he wasn't going to think about it anymore. Especially those parts concerning what the future held in store for him and Cordelia –

Xander figured he'd done the right thing not confiding about the fortune-teller's predictions to Willow and Jesse last night, either, after he'd arrived home and found both his friends waiting there for him. They'd already been embarrassed enough about forgetting to meet with him earlier in the day.

Well, Willow certainly had been anyway. For some reason, Jesse had briefly had a big grin on his face –

Heh. Maybe some girl had actually given his best friend a much-needed ego boost by being willing to spend time with him in public. And Xander knew he wasn't the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was nonetheless smart enough not to admit to himself he'd done the exact same thing with the object of Jesse's unrequited affections.

Not to mention the girl who'd made Willow's life miserable for the past seven years.

{ _Darn. I'm gonna have to go over to Cordy's house tomorrow, and give her that stuffed bear she won at the shooting gallery,_ } Xander thought to himself in annoyance, after he tossed aside the comic book and spied the Gund bear in question. He had brought it home with him after the cheerleader had stormed out of the fortune-teller's tent yesterday. { _Ah well, summer vacation – it's not like I've got anything else to do. Heck, she'd probably slap me all over again if she thinks I stole her property, or whatever! And sure, what Queen C did outside that Fat Burger joint was kinda painful – but am I crazy for thinking that when she's angry, she's actually kinda... well, sorta –_ }

Xander sighed. { _Okay, fine, I'll admit it – Cordy's become a real hottie lately. But being the meanest girl in Sunnydale takes the edge off the hotness factor, darn it! Jesse, if you ever get her to become your girlfriend, I hope for your sake that she doesn't end up trampling all over you. Because that would_ _ **totally**_ _suck, dude!_ }

His stomach growled and rumbled like that of a starving coyote, and so Xander gave up and went downstairs, looking for something to eat.

* * *

 **Harris residence kitchen**

 **A short while later**

Anthony Harris figured he was drunk, but maybe not quite as drunk as he wanted to be.

When he was sober, it worried him sometimes about how much he drank to forget his problems both at work and at home. Tony knew he didn't exactly get along with most of his colleagues at the office, plus he didn't have the best relationship with his wife and kid either. It had been different, once, long ago –

But things had definitely gone bad since then.

Tony could still remember how his life had been pretty good back in the Seventies, even if those memories were starting to become more than a little hazy now. After he'd done his four years of service with the U.S. Marine Corps, serving his country faithfully, he'd been a rising star at the petrochemical engineering firm he worked at. Both he and Jessica had been a couple of starry-eyed newlyweds who'd thought the future held nothing but good things for them both. Then his wife had gotten pregnant –

{ _Huh. Maybe that was when everything started to go wrong,_ } Tony thought to himself broodily, recalling the events of 1980 more clearly than he'd wanted to.

His dragon of a mother-in-law had insisted on moving in with him and his wife until Xander had been born, what with all the pregnancy problems Jessica had had. But after the old battle-ax had finally been kicked out, money had started to become a problem, what with all the costs associated with a newborn baby –

Diapers. Clothes. Food. Nursing visits and check-ups. Even a goddamn bassinet! The list had constantly seemed to grow from one day to the next. And then the company he worked for had started having problems as well –

Corporate downsizing, they called it nowadays. Lots of guys he'd started off with at Sunnydale Petrochemical, Oil and Gas Exploration and Development Limited had been laid off or let go, before his son had reached two years of age. Thank God Jess had managed to get her old job back after the pregnancy, keeping track of inventory for the five store chains she did the personal shopper thing for, and they'd managed to save up _**some**_ money before the stock market crash of '87.

Black Monday had almost ruined them, just like for a lot of other Sunnydale residents who'd invested in what had seemed to be solid blue chip companies, during the mid-Eighties.

{ _What do I have to show for my life so far?_ } Tony abruptly asked himself, opening up another can of Budweiser. { _A job I'm starting to hate, a wife I seem to constantly argue with, and a son –_ }

"Hey, dad," he heard Xander say, as the kid came into the kitchen. "Any Chinese food leftovers still in the fridge?"

"I dunno," Tony replied, before taking a sip of his beer. He made a face before adding, "Best take a look and see for yourself."

"Right." Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed his son do just that before the kid quickly shut the refrigerator. "Darn. All gone."

"You could ask your mother to make you something," Tony shrugged. "Where is she, anyway?"

"On the phone with Grandma Lambert," Xander replied, looking distracted as he glanced around the kitchen.

{ _Great. Shoulda known Jess would be talkin' with her mother. Just frickin' wonderful!_ } Tony put the can of beer on the kitchen table, and started to get up off the chair shakily – before his son rushed over to help steady him.

"You okay, dad?" Xander asked, looking concerned.

"I'm fine," Tony attempted to stand up on his own two feet, turning slightly to look directly at his boy. "I just –"

But then he abruptly cut himself off – as the kid's eyes had somehow _**changed color!**_

Instead of the chocolate-brown orbs that should have been there, all Tony could see was a set of alien, green-colored eyes that seemed to sparkle and shimmer in the harsh fluorescent light of the kitchen –

" _You should be greatly concerned about your future, both personal and professional. For the alcohol will surely break you if you let it_."

Tony blinked, not expecting to hear something like that from his offspring. He was just about to reply, when he noticed Xander's eyes were now back to their normal brown appearance. Tony briefly shook his head whilst asking himself, { _Have I had so much to drink that I'm actually havin'_ _ **hallucinations**_ _? That's never happened before!_ }

"You just what, dad?" the kid asked, looking concerned.

"Huh?"

"You said, 'I just' and then you cut yourself off, for some reason." Xander now looked more concerned than ever. "Look, dad, do you want me to help you over to the couch in the living room? You, uh, sorta have that 'glow' I've been seeing a lot, lately."

"Nah, not the living room. Think I'll head over to the garage, see if I can put some effort into restoring that 1969 Shelby I've been working on," Tony said, with a slight slur in his voice. He had already decided that if he _**was**_ having hallucinations, it would be best not to just sit on the couch alone and slowly go crazy. "Wanna give your old man some help on that?"

"Cars aren't really my thing, dad, but sure – whatever I can do," Xander shrugged, before helping him out of the kitchen.

Tony soon felt comfortable enough to walk on his own two feet. Unfortunately, before they got even halfway to their destination – he tripped over an empty beer bottle on the floor, falling down awkwardly and breaking his right ankle.

All he could do was yell in pain as his wife came running to see what had happened, while the kid ran to call 911 –

* * *

 **Sunnydale General Hospital, Sunnydale**

 **Later than night**

David Chase cursed the fact that he was stuck here waiting for his wife to be checked out for her Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, when he heard a vaguely familiar voice. One whose owner he hadn't spoken to for quite a few years. He turned and said to the woman in question, "Jessica? Is that you?"

"Oh! David, hello. Goodness, it's been a long time," Tony's wife said, looking faintly embarrassed.

"Hello, Mr. Chase," her son added, after the silence started to become a bit uncomfortable.

David took a moment to study the young man in front of him. He felt somewhat surprised as he said, "Mr. Chase? Last time we met, Alexander, it was 'Uncle David' –"

"That was a long time ago, sir," Xander interrupted. "And seeing how your daughter and I aren't exactly on great speaking terms anymore, I figure it'd be kinda rude to call you anything else."

David frowned. "I see. But if I may ask, what are you and your mother doing here at this time of night?"

"Tony fell over and broke his ankle, bit earlier on," Jessica replied, looking away briefly. "They put a plaster cast on it, and they're keeping him here overnight for observation as a precaution. I was just about to take Xander home, actually."

"Xander?" Mr. Chase raised his left eyebrow this time.

"That's what I call myself nowadays, sir," the boy nodded. "And if you don't mind my asking, what are you doing here this late?"

"Ah. Well, Cordelia's mother is feeling... indisposed," David said evasively.

"I hope it's nothing serious?" Jessica asked politely.

"Nothing the doctors can't handle," he shrugged slightly.

"Is it the chronic fatigue thing? Cordy mentioned Mrs. Chase was having problems with that at the fairgrounds, yesterday," Xander mentioned semi-absently.

"You and Cordelia spent time together at the Palisades Fair?" David was somewhat surprised to learn that.

"We hung out there for a while, yeah. She didn't mention that to you?" David then saw the boy roll his eyes. "No, stupid question, of course Cordy wouldn't have. Not after what happened when we visited that fortune-teller!"

"Fortune-teller?" David's voice now had a much harsher tone to it.

"Yup. She mentioned something about wanting to face her demons – and then after we went in there, Cordelia told Madam Devora that she was a complete fake and that her livelihood was a total scam," the male teen shrugged again, which caused him to exhale slightly in relief. "I dunno, maybe that's part of why she got so upset – see, the fortune-teller told Cordy that there's a fifty-fifty chance she'll end up married to me one day."

"What? Xander, you never mentioned this to me!" Jessica said, looking astonished.

"Didn't I? Huh. Sorry 'bout that, mom. I'm sure I mentioned it to dad, though – I mean, we had a great big laugh about it yesterday," Alexander – no, David reminded himself, Tony and Jessica's son called himself 'Xander' now – shrugged again.

He cleared his throat. "And why exactly is the concept of becoming my son-in-law one day so amusing?"

Jessica looked faintly alarmed, but Xander sent him a lopsided smile and said, "Well, for starters, I don't think your wife likes me very much, sir. The phrase 'low class trash' sorta comes to mind, from a conversation I'm pretty sure I wasn't supposed to overhear."

David stiffened and Jessica's face went pale before she hurriedly said, "Good night, David, I hope Julia gets better soon!" before she grabbed her son by the arm and forcefully hustled him away before the boy could say anything else.

{ _Damn it,_ } David cursed to himself, easily remembering that day when his wife had used that particular phrase. It had sparked quite the argument between them, but he hadn't known that anyone else had been within earshot during that vituperative episode – and blast it all, if the boy had heard Cordelia's mother say something like that? Then his little girl would have done so as well.

Those two kids had been inseparable back then, before Julia had split them up – by insisting that Cordelia only associate with the 'right' sort of children, from the third grade onwards. Namely, the offspring of people with money and power in this town; which definitely did not include the Harris, Rosenberg and McNally families.

{ _I better talk to Tony about this,_ } David decided, before asking one of the nurses where the man's hospital room was. { _I've been avoiding him to make Julia happy for far too long, as it is._ }

A quick trip to Room 108 later, though, he was somewhat shocked at the sight of his old Marine Corps comrade. Anthony Harris had lost a lot of hair and had obviously let himself go quite badly, since their days in the service. "Tony?"

"I must be havin' hallucinations again," the middle-aged man replied, squinting at him. "Chase, what are you doing here?"

"Chase? Is that what you call me now?" David asked, coming further into the room.

Tony shrugged very slightly, wincing at the movement. "It's been seven years since we've said a single damn word to one another. So what were you expecting me to call you? Buddy? Chum? Old pal o' mine? Doesn't quite seem to fit, from where I'm standing."

"You're lying in a hospital bed, with a plaster cast on your right foot and your leg supported by that sling," he riposted, despite privately acknowledging that Tony definitely had a point.

Harris instantly unleashed a lopsided smile, very much like the one his son had recently had on his face. "You always did have a thing for stating the obvious. And you still haven't answered my question – what are you doing here?"

"You always were something of a putz, Tony. And, obviously, you've only gotten worse with age," David sighed, before deciding this wasn't the time or place to discuss what Xander had alluded to a few minutes previously. "But to answer your question, I just spoke with your wife and son a few minutes ago. Kinda figured that as long as I was here, because of Julia's... medical problem, I should look in on you. Semper fi, and all that."

"Always faithful," Tony said, before he exhaled loudly. "Ya know what? When we put on the uniform and swore that oath to God, country, family and the Corps, life sure seemed a lot simpler."

"We were a couple of kids, almost fresh out of ROTC and college. Looking back on it, what else did you expect?" David shrugged.

"Never expected I'd turn into an alcoholic," Tony said reflectively, causing him to look at Harris in surprise. "May as well face it, I guess, 'cause even my boy knows it. Weird as, but I coulda sworn I heard Xander say that the alcohol would break me earlier tonight! Or maybe it was just my subconscious telling me that I need to get help, otherwise I'm gonna lose it completely. Who knows?"

Troubled, David took out one of his business cards, scribbled a name and a phone number and placed the card on the table next to the hospital bed. Tony noticed and asked, "What's that?"

"Contact details for someone who'll help you get sober, and _**stay**_ sober," David said simply. "Old acquaintance who used to be with Alcoholics Anonymous. And don't worry about what it'll cost; this is on me."

"Don't want your charity," Tony replied in kind. He then pointed to his broken ankle. "Already got enough debts to pay, right at the moment."

"I owe your son a debt," David replied, staring his former friend directly in the eye. "Or rather, my wife does. But then, what's mine is hers and what's hers is mine, 'til death do us part. You know – for richer for poorer, for better for worse, and in sickness and in health." Off the other man's look Mr. Chase added, "I said the words that day with you riding shotgun for me, and I meant them. And as I recall, so did you – the day I returned the favor with you and Jessica."

"Yeah. That I did, and that you did," Tony said reflectively. The man then returned his gaze and said, "Thanks for reminding me of that, Davy. I'd almost forgotten. All right, I accept the offer of help. And I won't forget this, by the way; I'll owe you one – so if you ever need help on something, just ask."

* * *

 **Summers residence, Los Angeles**

 **June 23** **rd** **, 1996**

{ _Grrf! Auggh!_ } Buffy Anne Summers growled to herself in annoyance and frustration. { _I swear, this whole Slayer gig is so_ _ **totally**_ _ruining my life!_ }

The Vampire Slayer honestly felt like she was just about ready to explode, or something. { _I don't want to be the Chosen One. I don't want to spend the rest of my life killing vampires. All I want to do is graduate from high school, go to Europe, marry Christian Slater and die! Like, is that too much to ask? Instead, some scone-head comes along and tells me I'm a member of the Hairy Mole club, and throws a knife at my head to_ _ **prove**_ _that I'm not normal_ _anymore! Not only that, he expects me to say 'how high?' whenever he barks an order at me to jump!_ }

Buffy abruptly came to a decision. { _Well, hell with that! I'm not his slave, no matter what Merrick may think._ } She quickly packed a bag of Slayage supplies before sneaking out of the house – huh, mom and dad were fighting again. Painful, but not – unexpected. Damn it.

Forcing that concept to go away, Buffy then thought to herself, { _I'm gonna have to make some changes around here. Like telling Merrick where he can go, whenever he tries to tell me what to do!_ }

Not far away from the house, a tall man in his early fifties wearing a large overcoat and a fedora fell into step with her. "You didn't show up for training yesterday," the man said in a distinct British accent, with an accusatory tone in his voice.

"I know, but I told you that I had something else planned. That I wasn't gonna be able to make it," Buffy said in reply, not looking at the man alongside her.

"And I told you to skip it," the Englishman said, refusing to accept that as an excuse.

"Merrick, do you wanna know why I didn't show? Really? Because, despite what you may think, there's _**more**_ to life than just slaying vampires! Well, for _**me**_ there is, anyway!" Buffy came to a halt, glaring up at her Watcher. "Do you have any idea how badly things suck for me right now? I'm constantly late for summer school, my friends are starting to think I'm a total loser, and my boyfriend Jeff –"

"I've told you before, and quite a number of times at that, to break it off with him. He's a distraction you don't need," Merrick interrupted, looking annoyed.

"NO! He's a distraction I _**do**_ need!" Buffy shouted at the Englishman. "Don't you get it, Watcher guy? I'm a human being, not some kinda robot you think you can force into doing whatever you want! Because that's what you're really after, isn't it? You don't want Buffy the Vampire Slayer! You want a, a Buffy-shaped weapon. One that blindly obeys all your orders, like a big, dumb dog. Well, screw that! Never gonna happen, mister. So start getting used to it!"

Merrick now looked even more annoyed than ever. "You have a sacred calling, girl. A birthright and a responsibility to live up to –"

"Spare me the speech, alright? 'Cause heard it all before. And sacred calling, my well-toned ass!" she interrupted, practically spitting out the words. "I'm fifteen – and I'm a _**draftee**_ , Merrick! And I can't even desert, or go AWOL, or whatever it is you wanna call it. So don't try to pretend this is something it isn't, okay? Those other five Slayers you trained, my money says you got to them early enough – and you managed to brainwash 'em enough – to mindlessly fight for the cause. Well, not _**me**_!"

Buffy started walking away, tossing over her shoulder, "Don't talk to me about my so-called destiny again, Merrick – ever! Just go home, and don't come near me again for a few days. Or else you might find out what Slayer strength _**really**_ feels like!"

Ignoring the British man's muted mutterings Buffy just kept walking, beginning her nightly patrol of L.A.

* * *

 **Spring Street, Los Angeles**

 **Many hours later**

Earlier tonight, Buffy had had an epiphany regarding cemeteries. And that was, why the heck should she spend all her time looking for vampires there?

Despite what Merrick had told her, she figured that the undead wouldn't hang out in such places – except for early evenings, when they were leaving their crypts or whatever to go seek out prey, and early mornings, when they were heading home after a hard night's blood-sucking. Buffy had concluded that vampires would much prefer places where the human herd congregated and could be picked off with relative ease. Like the outside of bars and nightclubs – or anywhere the vamps could find people, and lure them off somewhere private to feed on.

So she had spent the night walking the streets, especially those with dark alleys nearby. Buffy had satisfactorily proven to herself that her theory had merit; her kill count had dramatically improved –

"Slayer."

Buffy whirled around, surprised that anyone could have snuck up behind her. And that they knew who she was! She then gasped as she saw a black woman wearing somewhat trashy clothes and – oh dear God! Her eye sockets were just empty, bleeding, holes in her head –

"What the hell happened to you?!" Buffy demanded, as the woman swayed uncertainly for a moment.

"Side effects from being briefly possessed by a god," the new arrival replied, starting to stagger on her feet as Buffy rushed forward to provide a steadying hand. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. But hey, how did you know who I am? No, wait up – did you just say you got possessed by a _**god?!**_ " the Chosen One demanded incredulously.

"Yes. Don't ask which one. And now, my journey's nearly done. I'm Madam Devora, by the way," the woman finally introduced herself, as she let Buffy guide her to a recessed entryway that was pretty much just a hole in the wall of the building.

"Right – but what do you mean, your journey's nearly done? Does Merrick know you're here? I mean, are you with the Council?" Buffy fired off her questions in rapid sequence.

"In order, I'm dying. No, and by all the ten thousand hells in existence, no," Madam Devora said firmly.

"You're dying? Oh, geez. No, look, there's a hospital nearby, I think it's called Saint Matthew's or something, I-I can take you there –" Buffy started to babble, her protective instincts suddenly surfacing.

"They can't help me. No one can," Madam Devora cut her off. "Listen to me, Slayer. I don't have much time, and I can't tell you anything useful; _**they**_ won't let me. Just cryptic hints and the like. Something to do with maintaining the balance between good and evil, even though I personally find that hard to believe..."

"They? Who are you talkin' about? What are you talking about?" Buffy demanded. "And what cryptic hints?"

Madam Devora reached out with her right hand, groping blindly. Despite her misgivings about this entire situation, Buffy grasped the blind woman's appendage with her left hand, as the Seer started to speak.

"Do not give in to despair. There's always a way for you to win, Slayer. And far away in the dale of the sun, one day, you will meet the Defender of Mankind and his friends. With the Oracle's help, eventually, all the vampires will vanish from this plane of existence – but only if you're willing to do what must be done."

"What? What are you talking about?!" Buffy demanded, stunned. "Hang on, are you seriously telling me that one day – every single vamp goes poof, so I can finally get my life back? C'mon, lady, you've got to give me more than that! I mean, what exactly do I hafta do to pull _**that**_ off?"

"Sorry. Like I said – mere hints, that's all." Madam Devora started panting, as her breathing became shallower. "One last thing: don't, don't tell the Watcher about this. Or, not all of it. He would be – obligated – to report it. And, and then the power-brokers within his... Council would... arrange... to..."

"To what? What would the Council do?" Buffy asked urgently.

Madam Devora tried to reply, but it was too late. She gurgled, choked once, and then started to collapse. Buffy caught the fortune-teller in her arms, and then – unable to sense any breath or heartbeat – the Slayer slowly lowered the dead woman down to the ground.

Unable to decide what to do, Buffy just stood there, looking at the slowly cooling corpse – before abruptly leaving, finding a phone booth and making a quick call to 911 to report the whereabouts of the body. Then she hurried off, heading home for the night.

Buffy figured she had a lot of thinking to do, once she arrived in the safety of her bedroom.

TBC...

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks to everyone who's reviewed and sent PMs so far, it's much appreciated! Please, keep it coming.


	3. State of Play

**Chapter Three: State of Play**

 **Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean**

 **July 6** **th** **, 1996**

* * *

Spike stood on the main deck of the _Quintessa_ , cigarette clenched loosely between his lips, and he leaned perhaps a bit too hard against the railing. But what the hell – it was twilight, and the last of the sun's vanishing rays lit the tips of the waves on the horizon with a soft red glow. The ocean itself was rough and beautiful, ephemeral turbulence on the surface hiding the swift surging currents below.

The boredom was starting to become unbearable for him. All thanks to Drusilla insisting that they not wait around for a cruise ship with a casino, telly, and shuffle-board to amuse himself with –

Spike could hear the ship's engines rumbling loudly below the deck, the noise almost intolerable for anyone who had vampire-level hearing. He could smell the unwashed bodies of the crew, who pointedly ignored his presence. He could see the conn where the captain (greedy dickhead who actually had the nerve to charge him top dollar, for booking passage on this bloody garbage scow!) was on watch with the helmsman and bridge crew.

Every living soul aboard this tub had been the subject of Spike's homicidal fantasies, but so far, he hadn't killed any of them. It wouldn't do to have the truth of his and Drusilla's undead nature revealed to the ship's crew, after all. Bunch of stupid berks, the lot of them, granted – but the British vampire knew that even fools and idiots could become dangerous under the right circumstances.

Spike had encountered quite a few bloodthirsty mobs since 1880, after all.

"Spoike? Oh, there you are, my sweet poet!" Drusilla's voice caused him to turn around and embrace her fiercely. Spike saw the mischief in her eyes as his sire added, "You were gone so long, it 'urt my feelings. The ocean hissed, and I was ever so afraid. But then I grew angry, and it slunk away, like a poor hound with its tail between its legs. Am I a bad girl, my Spoike?"

"'Course not, luv," Spike reassured the insane female vampire, giving her another fierce hug. "You're the best thing that ever 'appened to me, you are!"

Lights suddenly seemed to dance in her eyes, and Drusilla's mouth quirked upwards into a mischievous, seductive smile. But as Spike kissed her, thrusting his tongue into her mouth, Drusilla bit down hard enough to draw blood. Spike moaned over the unexpected pain, but he didn't stop kissing her until Dru moved back and away from his tight embrace.

"It'll happen soon enough, Spoike. I saw so much posturing and chest-beating, and the sky was raining snakes. I told you, remember how I told you?" Drusilla asked vaguely, her head swaying slightly from side to side.

"I remember, pet. But don't give it another thought," Spike reassured her. He took his sire in his arms again and whispered in her ear, "You're the cream in my tea, poodle. My ripe, precious plum."

He pressed his face to her cheek and then nuzzled the nape of Drusilla's neck, nipping away with his human teeth. "And I'll kill any snake I 'ave to fer you!"

* * *

 **Hadley Street, Sunnydale**

 **A few hours later**

Life was pretty good, as far as Jesse Aaron McNally was concerned.

Okay, he still hadn't been able to get anywhere with Cordelia yet – but the recent Fourth of July holiday had been great! He and Willow and Xander had watched the big fireworks celebration in town, plus all three of them had spent tonight at the Sun Cinema watching the new movie called _Independence Day_. Perhaps not unexpectedly, he and Xander had loved it; but Willow had been fuming by the end of the film.

"You know what? That's the _ **last**_ time I ever let you two choose what we watch for movie night!" Willow complained, as the trio walked along the street bordered by one of Sunnydale's twelve cemeteries.

"Why? I mean, what was wrong with the movie?" Xander asked, looking clueless.

"What was _**wrong**_ with it?!" Willow exclaimed, her sea-green eyes going wide with amazement.

"Here we go," Jesse muttered under his breath.

"Xander, let me count the ways!" Willow ignored him, looking angry. "First off, the aliens had some kind of EM force field protecting their 'destroyer' spacecraft? Give me a break; the energy requirements alone make something like that completely ridiculous! Plus, the good guys managed to upload a computer virus onto the alien mothership's system, to disable the enemy's defences? Come on – you've heard me talking about the computer stuff since the start of eighth grade, so is that even _**remotely**_ feasible to you? And let's not forget that malarkey about Area 51, and how the military managed to recruit enough civilian pilots to fly their jets after all the Air Force ones died! I mean, where the heck did the script writers come up with nonsense like that?!"

"You have too many logical thoughts, Will," Xander replied, tsk'ing and shaking his head. "You oughta try to turn your brain off, and simply enjoy the mindless entertainment along with the rest of us."

"Xander..." Willow growled, starting to glare at him.

"Hey, I know, why don't we play a game? Movie quotes," Jesse interrupted, sensing the imminent arrival of argumentative disaster. "I'll go first. Um – of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world, she walks into mine."

"That's easy, _Casablanca_ ," Xander shrugged. "Uh... my mama always said, 'life is like a box of chocolates; you never know what you're gonna get.'"

" _Forrest Gump_ ," Jesse nodded. "Willow, your turn. It's good to be the king!"

" _History of the World, Part I_ ," Willow replied, looking somewhat annoyed. "Jewish here, remember?"

He shrugged, looking embarrassed. "Guess I couldn't think of anything better. Uh, never mind – it's a dumb game, anyway."

"What, are we gonna stop? Aw, too bad. 'Cause I was kinda wanting to include some of the classics from _Princess Bride_! Not the twu wuv crap, of course, the good stuff," Xander said with a grin. His best friend then puffed up and said, "Hello! My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!"

"As if anybody couldn't have guessed that one. And what's wrong with true love? I mean, the way it's shown in romantic movies?" Willow wanted to know, as they all kept walking in the general direction of the Bronze.

"It's not so much the romance thing, Will, it's the way it's supposed to apply to kids our age which I just don't get," Xander shook his head.

Jesse looked confused, "Huh? I mean, teen romance movies nowadays? Totally understandable, pal! Boy meets girl, they fall head over heels in love until something catastrophic happens, which somehow leads to them losing one another, seemingly forever. But their time apart leads to, like, this major epiphany, and they eventually realize they've loved each other right from the start, and so they get together in the boyfriend-girlfriend sort of way. The End. Happy ever after. Pretty predictable, not to mention boring, but still – totally understandable!"

"Gee, and to think – you still can't understand why Cordelia won't go out on a date with you," Willow shot back in exasperation.

"What does one thing have to do with the other?" Jesse asked, failing to see a strange expression briefly flicker across Xander's face.

"Hello? Cordelia's a _**girl**_ , like me? And sure, we're not even remotely friends, but if that's your attitude? Jesse – it's no wonder how she won't even give you the time of day!" Willow told him bluntly.

"Eh, don't worry, Will. I've got a plan where my one true love is concerned," he said cheerfully, which made both his friends roll their eyes.

"So, what is it? To follow Cordelia around everywhere, give her expensive presents every now and then, try to look suave and debonair in front of her friends, and wear down her resistance to your charms that way?" Willow demanded.

"Wow. Good guess," Jesse replied, impressed with the redhead's deductive skills.

"Seriously, dude, give it up! I mean, after Cordy told me to go to hell when I asked her to date you back on Midsummer's Day – aw, crap!" Xander groaned, shaking his head as Jesse gaped at him in surprise. "Me and my big mouth!"

"You asked Cordelia, on Jesse's behalf, to go out on a date with him?" Willow looked shocked.

"Why, why would you do that? Xan, you made me look like a desperate spaz! One who's too frightened to ask Cordelia to date me in person!" Jesse wailed in despair.

"Jesse, you _**are**_ too frightened to ask Cordelia out in person!" Willow replied automatically.

"Sure, but now she actually knows it, instead of just suspecting it!" he snapped, before turning his glare onto Xander. "Thanks a lot for _**your**_ help, pal!"

"Hey, I'm sorry, buddy! I just thought I'd try to give ya a hand winning her heart, ya know? But, uh..." Xander trailed off, looking embarrassed.

"What?" Willow inquired at once.

Jesse didn't like the way Xander exhaled loudly, before his friend admitted, "Cordelia said, and I quote, 'what in God's name makes you think I'd ever date the acne-faced creep who's practically my stalker? I'd rather date you, if it ever came down to a so-horrible choice between two such pathetic geeks!' That's why, just my opinion – but you need to move on, bud. Find someone else, 'cause ain't never gonna happen with Queen C."

Jesse instantly felt completely gutted by what he'd just heard. { _Cordy really feels that way about me? No. No way, it can't be true! It just_ _ **can't**_ _be!_ }

"Cordelia actually said that? Boy. I wish I could say I was surprised, but I'm really not," Willow said sympathetically, staring at him in mild pity. "I'm sorry, Jesse, but Xander's right. You really do need to find someone else – someone who's not such a complete b-i-t-c-h!"

"Don't call my Cordy that," Jesse said defensively. "And you know what? If that's what you guys really think, then you're officially off the wedding invite list after I ask her to marry me, once high school is over!"

After witnessing Xander and Willow roll their eyes again at his declaration of intent, he decided that he'd had enough – and so he angrily walked away, leaving his two friends behind.

{ _Boy, with friends like these..._ }

* * *

 **Not far from the Bronze, Sunnydale**

 **A moment later**

Willow sighed to herself, watching Jesse walk away all upset – just because she and Xander had dared to challenge his preconceived ideas about Cordelia Chase. { _And seriously, he's planning to ask her to marry him? Wow, talk about being in complete denial! And he's_ _ **really**_ _going to crash and burn, if he's deluded enough to actually go through with it in about three years' time. Boys!_ }

It was times like this Willow truly wished that those of the male persuasion could develop some emotional maturity during puberty, along with the chest hair and whiskers – and, of course, the overwhelming desire for the opposite sex. { _Can't Jesse understand that it's what on the inside of a girl which counts, in the long run? Or is he so dazzled by the beautiful face and body, that he fails to see the evil bitch underneath? Or does he just not_ _ **want**_ _to see it?_ }

"Hoo boy. I'm thinking there's some major grovelling in both our futures, Will, if we're gonna get Jesse to forgive and forget about what just happened," Xander sighed.

Willow nodded. "I think you're right. He really thinks he's in love with her, and doesn't want to hear anything to the contrary!" She sighed. "No offense, Xander, but boys our age? Obviously can't think straight."

"On behalf of my gender, hey!" Harris seemed mock-offended. Then he smiled. "Wanna play some rock-paper-scissors? I'll show ya someone who can think straight, not to mention think outside the box!"

"Xander. Seriously? You're _**always**_ scissors when we play that game, it makes you pretty darn predictable!" Willow told him. "Besides, like you were saying – shouldn't we be looking into ways to make Jesse forgive us over what we just said about Cordelia?"

At that moment, Willow blinked – it must have been a trick of the light, but she was nonetheless certain that Xander's eyes had turned _**green**_ , and were sparkling and shimmering in the dim illumination of the nearby street lights. Then her secret crush opened his mouth and said –

" _Seek, and you shall find where your friend is concerned. But you should know by now that the object of your affections loves you as nothing but a sister."_

Willow instantly felt like her entire world had suddenly come crashing down all around her, and thus missed out on Xander's eyes returning to normal. She shakily thought to herself, { _I, I, what just – what did he – oh, oh my, Xander finally_ _ **knows**_ _how I really feel about him? And instead of telling me he loves me too, he told me_ – }

 _ **WHAP!**_

"OW!" Xander yelled, after Willow had slapped him in the face. "Willow? What's wrong? I mean, what'd you do that for?" he asked cluelessly, shock and hurt written all over his face.

"You _**goofhead!**_ " Willow yelled at him, as the dam finally burst and Xander recoiled. Nearly ten years' worth of emotions since kindergarten could no longer be restrained, not after what she'd just heard him say. "I've been in love with you since we were six! _**Six!**_ "

Her declaration appeared to be a totally unexpected revelation to the – evil bastard – standing in front of her. "Huh? Wha... Willow, I, I..." he floundered badly, trying to respond.

"I'VE ALWAYS LOVED YOU! I ALWAYS WANTED TO BE MRS. WILLOW HARRIS ONE DAY! BUT YOU DECIDED TO TELL ME YOU DON'T LOVE ME THE WAY I LOVE YOU, **THAT** WAY?!"

Xander now looked utterly stunned after hearing the screams coming out of her mouth. He said to her nervously, "Look, Will, I dunno what –"

"NO! Don't you _**ever**_ speak to me again!" she cut him off mercilessly. She subsequently turned around and ran off in the direction of the Bronze, fighting to hold back tears.

"What the heck just happened?" Willow heard Xander mutter to himself, as she left him behind in more ways than one.

* * *

 **Somewhere in the Koreatown district, Los Angeles**

 **The same time**

The ensouled vampire standing within the empty and abandoned warehouse didn't exactly look like the enigmatic and sophisticated-looking mystery man which he was destined to become in Sunnydale. In fact, right now – Angel looked exactly like the bum he'd been since 1977.

He was dirty and unshaven, his clothes were worn and grubby-looking, and he could undoubtedly make extensive use of a shower and several bottles of shampoo and liquid soap. His breath still stank from the blood of vermin – despite the attempts of his sponsor named Whistler to convince him there was nothing wrong with making use of the cattle blood being thrown away by butcher shops and the like, every single day.

Unfortunately Angel had been doing penance for roughly two decades now, living off of rats in dark alleys after feeding on a recently-deceased human, and so it wasn't exactly easy changing his habits just like that.

Except where it came to Buffy Summers.

He had fallen in love with the beautiful young Slayer the moment he had laid eyes on her, from within that rusty old 1974 Dodge he had driven to L.A. from Manhattan with. Hopelessly, utterly, and completely in love.

That was why Angel was now willing to change. To become someone important. Someone who mattered. Someone _**worthy**_ of Buffy's love –

"Well, geez, lemme guess. You're thinking about that jailbait Slayer again, aren't you?"

Angel turned around, and studied the Messenger for the Powers That Be carefully. "So what if I am? You yourself told me that she's just a kid, and she's gonna have it tough – so isn't it sorta my job now to think about her?"

Whistler rolled his eyes. "Try that one on somebody who doesn't know you, Rat Breath. You weren't thinking of how to help that kid – you were thinking of how to help _**yourself**_ to her, weren't you?"

Angel looked away, unwilling to admit anything of the kind. "She's a Slayer, and I'm a vampire. She kills my kind – you know that, Whistler! Even if I have feelings for her, that doesn't mean _**anything**_ in terms of the mission. You know – protecting her. Keeping her alive."

"Interesting you should put it like that, Stink Guy," Whistler commented, his expression becoming grave. "On account of I've got bad news – your wayward children are heading this way, right now, even as we speak."

"Wayward chi – what are you talking about?" Angel looked confused.

Whistler sighed. "That undead whack-job you sired back in 1860, pal? Remember her? Plus her boyfriend, the guy who dresses like 1970's punk is still in style?"

"Spike and Drusilla? They're coming after Buffy?!" Angel was greatly alarmed; he knew just how obsessed Spike was with killing Slayers, and if that vampire set his sights on the blonde schoolgirl –

"Naw. Word from Up There is that they're heading for Sunnydale, they're planning on doing the whole family reunion thing," Whistler shrugged. "All part of that 'new future' deal I told you about, few weeks back. And you know what that means, right?"

"Darla." Angel grimaced slightly at the thought of his sire, recalling their last meeting in China more clearly than he wanted to. Even if that was roughly a human lifetime ago.

"Oh, it's not just her. Don't forget that clown calling himself the Master! You think he's gonna reject the presence of a genuine Seer who's part of his bloodline? Even a completely nutty one like her?" Whistler shook his head. "I dunno about that Spike guy – he might say the wrong thing at the wrong time and get himself dusted, or he might not. But your 'daughter' is soitanly gonna be welcomed with open arms by your undead grandpa, Rat Boy. I'm willing ta bet your soul on that!"

Angel felt a brief chill, even though that was supposed to be impossible for a vampire – soul or not. "So what's the plan? You want me to intercept Spike and Dru before they get to the Hellmouth?"

"You?" Whistler looked astonished. "Seriously, have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? No, wait, stupid question. So just trust me when I say that you still can't go three rounds with a fruit fly, let alone with half of the Whirlwind!"

Angel winced at that name – a title that had been bestowed upon his soulless alter ego, his sire, his childe and his grandchilde, so long ago – and he reluctantly acknowledged that the agent of balance had a point. His strength still wasn't anywhere near what it should be for a vampire his age, and if Spike and Dru teamed up against him, he would quickly become dust. "So what do you want me to do?"

"Stay away from Sunnydale, for now," Whistler told him. "Plus clean yourself up already, and get back up to speed _**fast**_. Things aren't happening the way the Powers originally foresaw, buddy boy, and for the schmucks like us stuck on the front lines of the war? That don't mean nothin' but trouble, I'm thinking!"

* * *

 **4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

 **July 20** **th** **, 1996**

Cordelia was packing her stuff for the Chase family's summer vacation trip to Baja California, or at least making sure everything was where it was supposed to be for when the maid did the actual packing. But for some reason, her heart just wasn't in it this year.

And it didn't take much mental effort for her to determine just what the reason for that was, either.

Her parents had started fighting again. Cordelia had easily figured that out, even though they'd done their best to hide it from her. Her mother had been doing the bedridden thing recently, sighing heavily and not really talking to her. So _**not**_ an attack of Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, because that was different when it hit her. Plus Daddy had suddenly developed a major interest in finding corporate and financial matters to attend to, or else he'd go and visit the Dweeb's father –

Yeah, that was another thing. She'd known (and even vaguely remembered for herself) that once upon a time, Daddy and Mr. Harris had been friends. Close friends who'd served together in the Army, or whatever. That was part of the reason why she didn't simply ignore Xander completely nowadays, despite how low on the school totem pole he was; much as she disliked admitting it to herself, they knew each other well, and had even been devoted friends as little kids.

Once upon a time...

Yeah. Cordy could still remember pretending to run at the head of the Seeonee pack in Miller's Woods, during the summer just after second grade – with Xander as Bagheera the Panther to her Phaona the Wolf, plus Willow as Baloo the Bear, and Jesse as Mowgli the Human-slash-Wolf Cub from the Jungle Book.

She could likewise remember playing other games in the Harris backyard; with Xander as John Carter of Mars to her Dejah Thoris, the Red Martian Princess... all flashing blades and radium pistols under the hurtling moons of Barsoom, with pretend tharks and thoats and the city of Helium –

{ _No, dammit, knock it off!_ } Cordelia told herself harshly, forcing herself to focus on the present rather than the past. { _All that was a long time ago. It doesn't mean squat now!_ }

It wasn't quite that simple, though, she knew that. Because ever since the week after finals, Cordelia had gone on quite a few dates – and she was pretty sure that _**none**_ of those guys could name even three things they'd supposedly listened to her talk about. She'd witnessed for herself how they'd just made 'uh-huh' and appreciative and interested noises, whilst staring at her tits and (less often) her lips.

And yet Xander, one of the few guys in Sunnydale whom she was so _**never**_ going out on a date with, had actually paid attention during their impromptu lunch at Fat Burger and at the Palisades Fair later on.

Cordelia knew that the Dumbass really had listened last month, as she'd confessed secrets that she'd never told anyone else – not even Harmony and Aura, her fellow cheerleaders and chief lieutenants at school. What was more, Harris had promised to keep her secrets, and damned if she didn't _**believe**_ him!

{ _Still – doesn't mean that I believe what that fortune-teller had to say, though. I mean, becoming Xander's wife and the mother of his kids if I don't want to die in less than ten years' time? Ugh, as if!_ } she thought to herself caustically. { _And, seriously! Because if things ever get bad enough for_ _ **that**_ _to look like a viable option? Then I may as well just shoot myself, and get it over with!_ }

The sun briefly went behind a cloud as Cordelia put away such seemingly foolish thoughts. She focused on what was important – namely, getting in some quality beach time; going shopping in La Paz's equivalent of Rodeo Drive; and finding herself some decent male eye candy during the holiday season.

Hrmm. Speaking of which –

She really ought to start thinking about who should become her new boyfriend after the summer was over. The start of sophomore year wasn't all that far away, after all.

TBC...

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks again to everyone who's been reading and reviewing the story, it's really appreciated! And I just wanted to mention that this story isn't exactly set within one of Ironbear's Buffy-verses, but since he's one of my beta readers, it's sort of got an honorary position (especially given some of the back story so far). Anyway, please tell me what you think of the latest developments!


	4. All Revved Up, With So Many Places To Go

**Chapter Four: All Revved Up, With So Many Places To Go**

 **Port Newark-Elizabeth Marine Terminal, Newark Bay**

 **July 21** **st** **, 1996**

* * *

"Bloody _**toffing**_ hell!" Spike yelled angrily, as he and Drusilla ran away from the _Quintessa_. "Stupid gits –"

Their ocean voyage was finally over, the freighter had finally docked in New York Harbor today – and Spike had never before been so glad to see dry land as he had earlier tonight. Unfortunately, Drusilla – who had been growing more and more crazy from the lack of fresh blood – had killed one of the sailors in view of one of his shipmates, who had immediately raised the alarm.

Just as Spike had suspected would happen, the ship's crew had quickly become an angry mob, determined to make Drusilla pay for what she'd done. Thus, it had become necessary for them to vacate the ship immediately. Leaving all their stuff behind, too.

{ _Lousy effin' blood bags. Don't they know that they're the damned prey around here, there to be slaughtered and fed upon?_ } Spike was seriously tempted to find the ship again one day and murder everyone aboard, just for the insult of forcing him and Dru to run for it this way. He wanted to –

"Oooh, Spike-y, look!" Drusilla suddenly stopped and pointed.

Spike's eyes went wide. A classic black 1958 Dodge Desoto FireFlite! { _Haven't seen one of them in years! Oh, sod it, that car's_ _ **mine**_ _now!_ }

The two vampires raced over to the vehicle, which was unlocked and had the keys hidden behind the sun visor. Spike almost leaped into the driver's seat, found the key, started up the engine – and as soon as Drusilla was safely inside, the Desoto headed off in the general direction of the New Jersey Turnpike.

{ _Well, this is better,_ } Spike grinned to himself, as his sire started giggling madly. { _Right, then, got a full tank o' gas – that should get us at least halfway to Chicago. After that, from the Windy City, ah, yeah – it's Route 66 all the way to the bloody Hellmouth! Well, more or less, 'til we get to the Santa Barbara turnoff. Betcha there's gonna be plenty of signs pointing us in the right direction for Sunnyhell, anyways._ }

Spike smirked, digging out a lone cigarette from one of the pockets of his duster and pushing the car's lighter down to warm up. { _Good to be back in the States, I reckon. You got – Woodstock, the Ramones, and even bleedin' Disneyland! S'alright here. Figger Dru and I might stay a few years, once she's gotten this thing 'bout seein' Darla again outta her system. Lots ta see 'n do, anyway._ }

The black Desoto roared off into the night, its undead occupants heading for their appointment with Destiny.

* * *

 **1420 Truman Drive, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

Willow was trying not to feel completely miserable and depressed, but she wasn't succeeding very well.

It had been fifteen days and nights since Xander had crushed all her teenage hopes and dreams in one swift, brutal and vicious blow. Hearing the guy you love cruelly reject you that way was – well, all right, Xander hadn't exactly laughed in her face or taunted her about her feelings or anything like that. But he had still _**hurt**_ her, darn it!

Jesse had found out almost at once, of course. She'd told him what had happened, after Xander had had the _**nerve**_ to say that he didn't have a clue why she'd slapped him and yelled at him never to speak to her again. Huh – Willow figured that if she hadn't known better, she might actually have bought Xander's clueless act, on account of he really had looked utterly bewildered that night. After ripping out her heart, and stomping all over it –

But Willow _**did**_ know better. She knew what she'd heard. And if Xander was going to be a lying asshole about what he'd done, so be it. Her opinion of him couldn't possibly sink any lower right now, anyway!

"Can I get you some herbal tea?" Amy Madison asked, from the doorway to the kitchen.

"No, thanks. And, uh, thanks for letting me stay here tonight," Willow sniffed.

"No problem," Amy shrugged. "You let me stay at your house often enough during the brownies and broth days, remember?"

Willow nodded. When Amy had been twelve years old, her mom and dad had split up, and Mrs. Madison had gotten fanatical about never gaining any weight – and the woman had become somewhat obsessive about Amy's weight as well. It had taken her friend losing fifteen pounds to make her mom back off about wasting her youth and time –

– even if there was still a nagging suspicion that Mrs. Madison didn't really approve of her daughter's choices in life, so far.

The front doorbell ding-donged. "I'll get it!" Willow heard Amy's mom call out, and then she heard the one voice she was hoping never to hear again.

"Hi, Mrs. M. Is Willow here?"

{ _Oh, damn it, Xander!_ } Willow cursed silently. She then got up off the couch as Amy automatically drifted over to her side, and then said to her friend, "Uh, this is probably gonna get ugly. I'm sorry, I didn't know –"

"What, that Xander would show up? Yeah, well, not your fault," Amy shrugged. "Don't worry, I've got your back on this."

"Thanks, Amy," Willow said gratefully, and a few moments later, Xander and Mrs. Madison appeared.

Willow was briefly shocked at her beloved's appearance; it looked like he hadn't slept for ages. There were bags under his eyes, and his hair was a complete mess. Her heart briefly went out to the guy out of reflex sympathy, before she ruthlessly quashed such feelings under her metaphorical heel. "What are you doing here, Xander?"

"Looking for you. C'mon, Will, we need to talk – it's been two weeks since you've said a word to me," Xander confessed, looking anguished. "Look, could we possibly discuss this in private?"

"I don't think that that'd be a good idea right now, Xander," Mrs. Madison said sternly. "Willow obviously isn't happy about being in your presence, and while I don't know for sure what's happened between the two of you – as long as you're in my house, you'll obey my rules. Understood?"

"Yeah, Mrs. Madison," Xander nodded reluctantly. He exhaled. "Uh, Will – I, um, heard from Jesse –"

"Yeah, I told him what you told me. And then I learned that you had the nerve to _**lie**_ to him about it!" Willow snapped.

"But it wasn't a lie! Willow, I swear to you, I honestly don't remember saying any of that! As far as I'm concerned, it never happened!" Xander pleaded desperately.

"Well, just for the sake of argument – say that we believe you. The important question is, was what you said actually true?" Amy spoke up. "I mean, do you love Willow as nothing but a sister?"

Xander immediately looked shifty and desperate. "I, ah, I _**really**_ don't want to get into that right now, Ames. I just wanna –"

"It's true, isn't it?" Catherine interrupted him, raising an eyebrow. "Because I've seen that look before, young man. Believe it or not, I was a teenager once myself, and I used to date a lot before I eventually married Amy's father –"

"MOM!" Amy yelped, looked scandalized. "Please! Not in front of my friends!"

Mrs. Madison smirked briefly. "All right, maybe that topic's not entirely important right now. But as I was saying, I'm quite familiar with the look on a teenage boy's face which says, 'I don't feel the same way you do about me, but I hope we can still be friends.' So there's no point denying that the answer to my daughter's question is 'yes', is there?"

"I, um, well, I –" Xander stammered, looking trapped.

Through her tears, Willow heard Mrs. Madison say, "I thought as much. So unless Willow wants to talk to you, Xander, I think it would be best if you left and gave her enough space to adjust to the new situation between the two of you. Maybe you and her will get past all this and eventually rebuild your friendship, or maybe you won't – but either way, I don't think –"

Mrs. Madison abruptly broke off mid-sentence, and Willow glanced at her in alarm before instinctively looking back at Xander. She gasped –

Xander's eyes were green, instead of brown, just like that night on Hadley Street a few weeks ago!

" _Mother-daughter closeness is all very well, but that particular plan is not something you want to go through with. And you should cleanse yourself, lest you end up in a prison of your own making."_

"What?" Amy asked in confusion, just as Xander's eyes returned to their normal color.

"What, what?" Xander asked in confusion, before turning back to Mrs. Madison. "And you don't think what?"

"What are you?" Amy's mother demanded coldly, not answering his question. "And how did you know I was planning to switch bodies with my daughter?!"

"WHAT?!" Amy and Willow both exclaimed in unison.

"Uh, Mrs. M, I dunno what's goin' on here, but – if that was supposed to be some kinda joke? Really not getting it," Xander said, backing away slowly. "Um, maybe I oughta just –"

"Are you a seer? Or an oracle of some sort?" the middle-aged woman demanded, and Willow noticed Xander stiffen less than a moment later. As if he'd suddenly remembered something –

Mrs. Madison obviously saw it too, because she nodded and said, "An Oracle, then. Yes, that would fit – because according to what I've read, a real Oracle has no memory of its prophetic pronouncements, after the deed is done. Strange but true..."

"What?" Willow asked numbly, unable to believe what she was hearing. In her confusion, she didn't even remember that she was supposed to be angry as heck at Xander right now –

"Magic is real," Amy's mom said succinctly, before she waved her right hand and chanted in a foreign language, "Petrify!"

Willow barely had time to translate the Latin word in her head before she, Amy and Xander were frozen. Like stone statues, almost. She couldn't move any part of her body, except to talk and breathe.

"This is not happening." Xander looked like he was trying to shake his head in denial, but failing to do so. "I mean, this _**can't**_ be happening. I gotta be hallucinating! Or else I'm at home and I'm having some kinda nightmare, that's gotta be it!"

Mrs. Madison ignored him and left, heading upstairs. Amy started to panic and babbled, "I didn't know anything about this! I mean, when my dad was still around, they'd fight and yell and he would... he'd call her a witch, and... hey, I thought he just meant... oh dear God, when he left I so wanted to go with him. But after mom got custody, she wouldn't even let me call him! I just don't –"

"Amy! Calm down!" Willow reflexively ordered her, even though she was completely thunderstruck herself. "Panic attack, not helping! Besides, she's your mother. She wouldn't hurt you!"

"But didn't you hear what she just said? She was planning to switch bodies with me!" Amy was obviously starting to get hysterical. "Even Xander knew, somehow, with that crack about mother-daughter closeness!"

"WHAT?" Xander yelled, looking confused. "Amy, what the heck are you talkin' about?"

"Xander. Just now, you said to Mrs. Madison, 'mother-daughter closeness is all very well, but that particular plan is not something you want to go through with. And you should cleanse yourself, lest you end up in a prison of your own making.' Are you saying you don't remember telling her that?" Willow demanded.

" _ **No!**_ Holy frijole, Will, I have no idea what you're – what's going on here?!" Xander shouted, looking like he was totally freaking out.

"Xander, listen to me! I think this is – it's, it's kinda like when you told me that you only love me like a sister. Your eyes changed color that night as well," Willow said, her brilliant mind finally shifting into gear – and the hurt from that evening _**finally**_ starting to recede a little.

"What?" Xander asked, the disbelief coming off of him in waves.

"We all saw it just now, Xander. Your eyes turned green for a few moments, and they were – I dunno. Kinda sparkly or something," Amy stated, calming down a little.

"And your reaction when Amy's mom said you were an oracle of some kind – Xander, what the heck was all that about?" Willow wanted to know, suddenly suspicious. "I mean, are you hiding something from me?"

"I don't know what you're talkin' about, Will. I mean, I never did anything, and nothing ever happened, and that's my story and I'm stickin' to it!" Harris babbled urgently, looking as if he was in complete denial about – something.

"You're a liar," Amy briefly glared at him. "And a pretty lousy one, too! Come on, Xander, spill! What's your big secret? I mean, how exactly did you become an Oracle?"

"Hey, I'm _**not**_ an Oracle! Will you stop using the o-word?!" Xander demanded, still looking freaked.

"Y'know, if we were still on speaking terms – you would _**so**_ be in the doghouse for that one, mister!" Willow scowled at him.

"I'm back," Mrs. Madison announced, as Willow tried in vain to move her head in the direction of Amy's mom. As the middle-aged woman came into view, she noticed the witch was carrying a thick book of some sort.

"What's that?" Willow asked, immediately curious. "A spell book or something?"

"Never mind that – mom, please! Let us go!" Amy cried desperately, the pleading expression on her face clear for everyone to see.

Amy's mother ignored her, as she turned her attention to Xander. "All right. I'm planning to do a Sumerian purification ritual, as you more or less suggested. Now, is there anything else you'd care to, ah – 'advise' me on, before I get started?"

"This is not happening," Xander repeated his words of denial from earlier before, again trying but failing to shake his head.

"I'll take that as a 'no', then," Mrs. Madison nodded to herself. She subsequently lit three white candles and placed them in a triangle around herself. Then the woman got into a kneeling position and started chanting in Sumerian, reading from the book, "The center is dark. The darkness breathes. The listener hears. Hear me!"

"Oh, wow," Willow whispered in amazement, as the spell's energy began to swirl around Amy's mom.

She saw Mrs. Madison's eyes go black before the woman said, "Unlock the gate. Corsheth! Let the darkness dissipate. Fill me with your cleansing power! So mote it be!"

The spell began to cover every part of the spellcaster's body – and Willow would have averted her eyes from the intense light show if she could have. But all that she and the others could do was bear witness as the intensely powerful magicks were invoked. Then the spell faded, and Mrs. Madison's eyes returned to normal.

In Willow's view, the witch – if that was what Mrs. Madison really was – was now looking completely shocked and revolted.

"What have I done?" Amy's mom said in horror, before she glanced at Willow and the others. "Unbind!" she said in Latin.

Straightaway, the three teens were released. And Xander would have immediately bolted for the front door, except Willow grabbed him by the arm and prevented him from going anywhere with a sharp glare. She then said uncertainly, "Mrs. Madison, are you okay?"

"No, Willow. I'm really not," the dark-haired woman shook her head, apparently not noticing how Amy was definitely keeping her distance from her mom. "It's like I've been blind all my life, and now I can finally see clearly. The things I've done, the things I was planning to do – and to my own daughter, no less! – just because I was so bitter about the divorce, and all the lost opportunities in my own life –"

"Lost opportunities?" Amy interrupted, almost without meaning to.

"Back in high school, Amy – I thought the whole world would eventually be mine for the taking. They used to call me 'Catherine the Great', I'm sure I've mentioned it; I led Sunnydale High to the Tri-County Championship as captain of the varsity cheerleading squad, and I was voted Most Popular Girl at Senior Prom. I was Homecoming Queen as well, sweetie, and your father was Homecoming King during our senior year. We had such plans, such dreams..." Mrs. Madison trailed off.

"So what happened?" Willow asked, as Amy took a hesitant few steps forward.

"I'm not sure. There's something – something about this town. Sunnydale is – _**cursed**_ , for want of a better word. Amy, all those years ago, I had a chance to leave here with your father – but I didn't. Because I discovered that I could do magic, like the kind you and your friends just witnessed, and I was less powerful anywhere other than here," the middle-aged mom confessed. "I, I thought I could control it, but it ended up controlling me! I guess the old saying is true – power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Amy, you and Willow – you have to be careful not to fall into the same trap I did!"

"What?" Xander demanded, still looking totally freaked.

"The signs are all there, I can see them. Both girls have an even greater potential for doing magic than I did, at their age," Mrs. Madison said, before focusing elsewhere. "And as for you, Xander – you need to be careful as well. Your gift, or your talent, or whatever you want to call it – there are those in this world who would think nothing of kidnapping an Oracle like yourself, and holding you prisoner for the rest of your life if they were to discover what you can do. So you need to learn how to control your ability, somehow."

"Huh?"

"I'd suggest not looking anyone in the eye, for starters. I don't know much about soothsaying and prophecy, granted, but all the texts I've read agree that most Oracles require eye contact to communicate their pronouncements of the future," Amy's mom said, albeit with a somewhat uncertain tone of voice.

"No way. This is insane! No offense, Mrs. Madison, but you're completely nuts," Xander shook his head wildly. "And don't call me an Oracle! Because I'm no such thing!"

Amy's mom never got the chance to reply – because without warning, her body started spasming in pain, she started foaming at the mouth and then Mrs. Madison collapsed onto the floor of the living room.

"Mom! Mommy? MOOOOM!" Amy yelled, rushing forward while Xander quickly ran to call 911.

"Oh, no," Willow whispered in horror as the body twitched spastically, and then lay still.

* * *

 **Restfield Cemetery, Sunnydale**

 **July 25** **th** **, 1996**

{ _I really hate funerals,_ } Xander thought to himself, as Amy's mother was laid to rest that Thursday afternoon. { _I mean, I may not have been to one since – wait, hang on. How many funerals_ _ **have**_ _I attended in my life? I... I think it's been – oh, almighty Zeus! I've been to so many that the school newspaper has an_ _ **obituary**_ _section, to cover that sort of thing! Great googley-moogley, how come I never noticed that before?_ }

Xander subsequently noticed Mr. Madison holding Amy tightly as the coffin was lowered into the earth. Putting aside his previous train of thought, the young man couldn't help wondering how Amy's dad felt about being granted custody of his daughter, now that his ex-wife was dead. { _Gonna be a big adjustment for both of them, I guess. And that's assuming Amy keeps her mouth shut about – whatever happened – that night._ }

Despite rejecting almost everything he'd seen and heard during that particular evening, Xander could still recall what had happened. Especially when the cops and the coroner's people had shown up at the Madison residence. There had been questions, more questions, and even more questions; and he had honestly said that he had no idea what had happened. Amy had been hysterical, so Willow had stepped up and told the police and city officials – well, not exactly the whole truth, but something that at least _**sounded**_ believable.

That they had all been talking, and Mrs. Madison had suddenly collapsed without warning. No mention had been made of – everything else.

It had worried Xander, somewhat, when he'd realized that Mrs. Madison's spell book had vanished – into Willow's backpack, presumably, given the way she had been tightly clutching it once the Sunnydale PD had finally allowed their parents to take them home. The cops had taken their statements, and said the investigation would require follow-up interviews at a later date.

And yet, there had been nothing afterwards. Not even a phone call! That had struck Xander as weird – but less weird than what had happened during the night in question.

With all his might, Xander was trying to repress about all the freaky stuff – but that simply wasn't working. Mostly because Willow wasn't trying to forget any of it, and his concern for the girl he loved like a sibling was overpowering the urge to slip back into his personal comfort zone – where there was no such thing as magic, or witchcraft.

Or even prophecies and Oracles.

Xander involuntarily shuddered as he heard the priest say the usual meaningless words, and then the funeral officially came to an end. Most of the attendees quickly left after hurried goodbyes, something else he couldn't help thinking was kind of odd –

"Xander, I'm taking your father back to the car," Jessica told him, as she helped her husband get up off the chair and then settled his dad's crutches in place. "Don't be too long in joining us, okay?"

"No problem, mom," Xander promised. "Just wanna talk to Willow, and I'll be right there."

His dad grunted acknowledgment of that, and waved off the offer of helping assist his mother to get him to the 1990 Chrysler Cirrus currently serving as the Harris-mobile. Xander watched them go, wondering whether maybe, just maybe, the old man breaking his ankle last month had actually been a blessing in disguise – since his dad had stopped drinking, and the traditional Saturday night fights with his mom had also ceased, after those sessions with that friend of Cordy's father.

{ _Maybe things will actually become good at home if this keeps up. Maybe,_ } Xander shrugged, willing to hope for the best – but unwilling to believe that it would actually happen. { _Gotten my hopes up before, after all, only for good ol' mom and pop to fall back into the same old bad habits. So who knows?_ }

He then saw Willow leave her parents behind and quickly walk over to him. "Hey," the black-clad redhead said tentatively, before giving him a hasty hug.

Xander almost had a meltdown of pleasure; he'd definitely missed his weekly quota of Willow hugs. "Hey," he replied warmly. "So, does that mean I'm finally forgiven, and everything can go back to normal?"

"No, Xander. I mean, that's impossible," Willow shook her head at once.

"What? Why?" Xander asked confusedly.

"Because. Look, I can accept the fact that you don't feel the same way about me that I do about you – even though I _**really**_ don't want to – but I can't pretend that all this changes nothing between us," his friend said earnestly. "I guess Amy's mom was right – maybe we'll eventually get past it and form a new kind of friendship, or maybe we won't. But either way, we can't ever go back to the way things were a few weeks ago. I mean, me hoping that one day you'd see me as a girlfriend and future wife, rather than a friend or a... a sister. It's just not possible."

{ _**No**_ _, damn it!_ } Xander thought to himself angrily. He instantly _**hated**_ the fact that this sort of distance now existed between him and one of his two best friends; and that there was nothing he could do to fix it.

Auggh! He couldn't _**force**_ himself to love Willow the way she wanted him to!

{ _Gee, what was your first clue?_ } a snarky and annoying voice at the back of his head suddenly spoke up. { _The fact that Willow's cute, and even kinda pretty, but she just doesn't push your hottie buttons? The way a certain mean and tactless brunette with a really delectable set of jahoobies does?_ }

Stupid inner voice. Inwardly sighing, Xander decided to change the subject. "I noticed you talking with Amy, before her dad led her away. How's she doing?"

"Not good. I mean, y'know, she's just lost her mother and all," Willow shrugged. "And Amy mentioned something 'bout how her father was planning for them to move away to Ventura, or Oxnard, or maybe someplace near there."

"Not a bad idea, I guess," Xander shrugged. "New start, somewhere else – but still close enough to visit her mom's grave if she wants to."

"Yeah. Thing is, though, I called the Sunnydale PD and asked the cops what was the official cause of death. They said it had been classified as 'unknown' and the case was closed, due to lack of any evidence of foul play," Willow frowned.

Immediately, Xander's heart sank; he did _**not**_ like where this conversation appeared to be going. "Willow –"

"You were there, Xander. You heard what Mrs. Madison said, and you saw what she did," Willow interrupted stubbornly. "Magic is real. You _**saw**_ it – the same way Amy and I did!"

"Hey, I dunno for sure _**what**_ I saw that night," he replied obstinately. "All I know is that I witnessed a way-freaky light show, and then all the crazy talk started –"

"And what about that body-bind spell, or whatever it was?" Willow interrupted again, staring directly into his eyes. "How else do you explain that ability Amy's mom had to freeze us all in place that way?"

{ _Yeah, sure, bring that up!_ } "Uh..." Xander had a brief case of brain lock. Then he said hesitantly, "Incredibly advanced hypnosis of some kind?"

"Grfff. Auggh!" Willow groaned. "I can _not_ believe that you of all people are trying to Scully me! C'mon, Xander – whenever you, me and Jesse watch _The X-Files_ together, _**you're**_ the one that always says 'I want to believe'!"

"That's a TV show, Will, and _**this**_ is real life!" Xander shot back mulishly. "And, here comes Jesse..."

"Hey," the guy said stiffly. Xander figured his best bud was still unhappy with him and Willow – even after all these weeks apart. Then Jesse added, "How are you two holding up?"

Xander opened his mouth to say 'okay' – and the next thing he knew, Willow was holding back his struggling best friend, who looked like he had pure murder in his eyes. Blinking a few times, he said in confusion, "What?"

"Okay, it's official – our friendship is over! Don't come near me again, Harris – or I swear, one of us won't get up after that fight's over!" Jesse snarled at him, before stomping off.

"What? What's his deal?" he asked, feeling more confused than ever.

"You did it again, Xander," Willow told him, looking somewhat annoyed. "You really don't remember what you said to Jesse just now, do you?"

Instantly, the same cold feeling of dread that he'd felt at Amy's house (and at the Palisades Fair, to a lesser extent) threatened to overwhelm Xander's mind. "What, what happened?"

"Well, you said, and I quote: 'paths that lead to nowhere but pain always look attractive at first, even if the girl you love despises you. So ask yourself if the hope is actually worth the heartbreak, without your usual self-deception.' Still, on the bright side, I don't think Jesse noticed your eyes turn green and sparkly when you, y'know, went Oracle Guy on us," Willow shrugged slightly.

{ _No, no, NO!_ } Somewhere in the depths of his limbic system Xander knew he was living in complete denial, but he simply couldn't help it. "Will, I've asked you this before – please, please, _**please don't**_ use the o-word around me!" he practically begged her, abruptly recalling that meeting last month with Madam Devora a lot more clearly than he wanted to.

{ _Oh,_ _ **crap**_ _. That all really happened, didn't it? The mad Seer – the new future – that whole end of the world thing..._ }

Oh, yeah, major panic attack. And, finally recalling his promise to his mother, Xander hurriedly told Willow goodbye. As they split up and he headed for the family car containing his increasingly impatient parents, for some reason he didn't really understand – Xander briefly wondered where exactly Cordelia was right now, and what she was doing.

* * *

 **Gran Baja Hotel, La Paz**

 **The same time**

Cordelia sat in a chair on the balcony of the Chase family's penthouse hotel suite, a virgin cuba libre in one hand as she looked down at the nearby lagoon and yachting marina. It was full of people having fun, and enjoying the hot summer weather.

{ _I am so_ _ **bored**_ _,_ } she thought to herself despondently. { _Somebody, please, get me out of here!_ }

TBC...

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks as always to everyone who's read and the reviewed the story. And I'm pretty sure it's been made clear in this chapter, but with regards to Xander's oracular pronouncements, they're **_not_** inevitable warnings of what's to come. Free will plays a big role, and it wouldn't be much of a story if that wasn't the case!


	5. Another Year Over, And The New One Just

**Chapter Five: Another Year Over, And The New One Just Begun**

 **Just outside the Sunnydale city limits, California**

 **August 1** **st** **, 1996**

* * *

The black Desoto skidded to a stop as it passed the 'Welcome To Sunnydale' sign. If any human passer-by had been present, he or she almost certainly would have noticed how all of the car's windows were now covered with a thick coat of grease and black paint – but they wouldn't have guessed that this had been done to protect the vehicle's occupants from the effects of exposure to direct sunlight.

Because that was Sunnydale Denial Syndrome for you, in all its glory.

Spike got out of the driver's seat and looked around, before lighting up a cigarette. "Well, here we are, luv. Sunnyhell, at last! Wanna come out and 'ave a look, then?"

Drusilla slowly exited the car and looked around, shaking her head. "No, no, this isn't right, this won't do –"

Without warning, the insane Seer punched the Welcome sign with all her supernatural strength, sending it flying off into the distance. "Better."

Spike shrugged, having no idea why his beloved had done that – but honestly not caring one jot about it, either way. "As you say, darling. Still – may as well go find Darla, eh?"

"Yes, my precious," Drusilla nodded, before pointing off into the distance. "Grandmother's located – that way."

They got back inside the car and sped off, heading for the outskirts of town. They entered a mausoleum not far from Hamilton Street, and then they disappeared underground – walking through the sewer tunnels until they reached the Master's underground prison-slash-lair.

"Halt! Who goes there?" a vampire in game face demanded, abruptly stepping in front of them.

"We do, your gormless tit," Spike growled, immediately punching the minion unconscious and stepping over the body. "Oy! Darla, where the sodding hell are you?"

"Spike. What are you doing here? And – Drusilla?" Darla stepped forward out of the shadows, a concerned look briefly appearing on her beautiful human mask. The soulless blonde then said, "So. You're here as well."

"Well, that's bleedin' obvious to anyone with eyes, idnit?" Spike demanded, even while calculating their chances of escape as a horde of vamps encircled him and his sire. "'Ere, what's going on? We didn't show up ta start a fight!"

"You and your sire dare to arrive here, without warning or invitation? Were you not part of the Master's lineage, you would already be dust," Luke growled, as he too stepped out of the shadows.

"Yeah, Luke – good ta see you too, mate. And wasn't aware we _**needed**_ an invitation, was I?" Spike shot back at him. "What with me 'n Dru bein' family and all!"

Darla ignored him, her attention focused entirely on Drusilla. She asked her grandchilde, "Why have you come here, Drusilla?"

"The moon, Grandmother. It spoke to me, it did," Dru said vaguely, staring off at something only she could see. "It said so many awful things, about Spoike. About you. And about Great-grandfather. And the stars – they said such awful things as well!"

"What awful things?" Darla demanded at once.

"The Kitten. The naughty girl. And the statue, whispering secrets in the night! Psst, psst, psst," Dru hissed. Her eyes darting around, like she was expecting an attack at any moment.

"You haven't changed, have you, Drusilla? Same old lunatic babbling. Why should I be even remotely surprised?" Luke said scornfully.

"'Ey, you wanker, you don't talk to my Dru like that!" Spike growled, going into his demon face and taking a threatening step forward.

Luke took a step forward as well, and a fight to the death would no doubt have gotten started – if the Master's voice hadn't called out, "Enough. Bring the Seer before me."

Luke went to grab Drusilla by the arm, but Spike immediately got in his way. "Go ahead 'n try it, mate. But moment you lay a finger on her, I'll rip your fuckin' head off with me bare hands. We understand each other?"

Luke just growled incoherently at him in reply, his fangs reflecting the dim candlelight of the underground cave.

"Silly boys. C'mon, Grandmother," Drusilla said in an oddly cheerful tone, as she linked arms with Darla and headed for another part of the vampire lair. "Your daddy's waiting!"

"Indeed I am," the Master replied, as the women approached.

Drusilla curtsied, as Darla got down on one knee in supplication before her sire. The undead blonde said formally, "Master, I present to you Drusilla, grandchilde of my line – and great-grandchilde of yours."

"Yes, I remember her. Angelus's get, aren't you?" the Master asked Drusilla, even though it was obvious he already knew the answer to his own question.

"Oh, woe is me! My Daddy's not my Daddy no more," Dru replied, suddenly looking as if she was about to burst into tears.

"Meaning?" the Master inquired.

"The curse, Master. You may recall that I mentioned it once, a few decades ago," Darla said, still down on one knee.

"Ah, yes, those gypsies who gave Angelus his soul back. Kalderash tribe, was it not? I hope that taught you a lesson, my dear," the Master said to Darla sternly. "And that is, _**never**_ underestimate an opponent. Now then, Drusilla," the ancient vampire switched his focus to her. "I know you have the Sight, so tell me. Why have you come here?"

"They wanted to put the spark in my William, they did. Miss Edith. The stars. The moon. They all told me we had to be 'ere. In order to stop it," Drusilla answered, while looking at empty air in front and to her left.

The Master frowned, turning to Darla for an explanation. The female vampire merely bowed her head again and said submissively, "I was never that good at interpreting what Drusilla could foresee, Master. I usually left that up to Angelus –"

"Bad Daddy!" Drusilla abruptly interrupted her grandsire. "And that wicked man in the hat, I don't like 'im at all!"

"I see," the Master said reflectively. "And what of me, child? What do you see in my future?"

Drusilla blinked. "You have burning baby walruses floatin' all around you, Great-grandfather."

A coarse, loud laugh seemed to fill the underground cavern, as Spike finally ambled over after 'dealing' with Luke. "Yeah, that's a good one, luv!"

"Where's Luke?" Darla asked, looking around.

"Dust, o' course!" Spike then looked towards the Master, a semi-amused expression on his face. "Well, hope you don't mind me and Dru just droppin' in like this, but my princess wanted to come 'n visit – and ya know how it is, I'm sure. What's a bloke to do when his luv has 'er heart set on something, other th'n just give in gracefully?"

"William. _**Be**_ _**silent**_ in the presence of our Master!" Darla got up, and backhanded Spike viciously. The British vamp stumbled backwards as the blonde added harshly, "You will show him the proper respect as well, or I will end you myself!" She brought a stake out from behind her back, and held it up threateningly.

"Go ahead 'n try it, bint," Spike growled at her animalistically. "'Cause I'm not that ignorant fledge you and Angelus used to tolerate for Dru's sake, not anymore!"

"Darla. Put that away. And as for you, William, come here," the Master ordered. He waited until Spike fully entered the boundaries of the mystical prison and then said, "You have courage, I'll grant you that. And as part of my line, I have a certain use for you – both now, and in the future. But first, child, you need to learn just who is the master – and who is the servant."

The ancient vampire's red-gold eyes almost seemed to glow for a moment, as the Master unleashed his hypnotic powers. "Kneel before me, and do penance the best way you know how."

Dru called out, "My Dark Prince will be brought low! But today is not his day to die."

Spike got down on his knees – desperately fighting against the Master's compulsion, but failing miserably – before the undead Englishman reached up with his claw-like hand, and then tore one of his own fangs out. The lukewarm blood spraying out of his mouth onto the dirt floor, he then reluctantly placed the fang on the ground as an 'offering' to his great-great-grandsire.

{ _Oh, my poor Willy! And as Daddy would say, atonement's a bitch,_ } Drusilla thought to herself humorously, somewhere in the depths of her demented mind.

* * *

 **Thirty-four degrees twelve minutes north and one hundred and eighteen degrees twenty-one minutes west, Los Angeles**

 **The same time**

Merrick arrived in the presence of the ridiculous-looking hamburger statue alongside Buffy, and frowned at the sight of the fast food restaurant – as his Slayer made some inane comment which he didn't bother paying any attention to.

In the Englishman's mind, his current charge had become far too independent in thought and nature over the past few months. She also insisted on frivolities which were, quite frankly, irrelevant to her purpose in life. Merrick wasn't completely sure what to do about it, though.

Back off too much, and the girl would think she could do whatever she pleased. But push too hard, and she might rebel against his authority so completely there would be no choice but to summon one of the Council's wet works teams, and transfer her to England for 're-education.'

It sickened Merrick to think of having to go that far – kidnapping the girl he had sworn to help and safeguard to the best of his ability, and then hoping that Buffy would be successfully reprogrammed into a proper Slayer; or else the next Chosen One would be activated.

But then this was a war, by any other name, and Merrick knew he had his duty to think of.

If the Chosen One preferred to go on dates with her boyfriend and socialize with her friends (even though, thankfully, both types of events were becoming rarer with every passing day) rather than save innocents from the undead, then soon enough –

{ _Well, I'll cross that bridge if and when I come to it._ }

Merrick then said to Buffy, "All right, we're here. Now, are you sure you want to do this?"

Buffy rolled her eyes at him. "Bit late to be asking that now, isn't it?"

The Watcher repressed the urge to tell her to cease being such a vapid young idiot. "The wizard I spoke to warned me that summoning the Loa is not something to be undertaken lightly, girl. You face enough danger every night, there's no need to needlessly add to it!"

"Aw, gee, Watcher mine. For a moment there, it sounded like you actually cared," Buffy instantly had an amused expression on her face. "About me, that is, and not just losing your Slayer. Which would be kinda embarrassing, right? Telling the Council what happened afterwards, I mean."

She then did a lousy imitation of Merrick's accent, "Gosh, old chap, I don't know _**what**_ took place. Silly girl got herself killed. Well, tally ho and all that, never mind! Found the new one yet?"

"Yes, very droll," Merrick drawled, not in the least bit amused by his charge's antics. He then added, "And no one says 'tally ho' anymore, just for the record."

"They don't? Huh. Too bad. Guess that's one British stereotype now totally out the window," Buffy shrugged. "So. You wanna get started?"

"Very well. Although I still don't understand why you're insisting on pursuing the matter to this extent," Merrick frowned again. "I already told you, the odds of every vampire vanishing off the surface off the Earth one day are so huge they're astronomical."

"Yeah, but it won't hurt for us to confirm it, right?" Buffy said glibly. Merrick thought he saw the ghost of – something – briefly appear on his Slayer's face before she added, "Wasn't it Sherlock Holmes who said, um, 'if something is practically impossible, then it's also kinda probably gonna come true'?"

Merrick audibly exhaled at the Buffy-ism. "No, girl. Sir Arthur Conan Doyle actually wrote in the novel that 'once you have eliminated the impossible, whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth.' Still, in a way, I suppose I can see your point. However miniscule, the possibility that all the undead will one day be gone from this world technically exists; and if it will help you to focus on more important matters by hearing that directly from the Loa, then I will summon it for you."

The Watcher sprinkled the powder in the bag he'd brought with him tonight over the hamburger statue; then he held his hand up, palm out, in front of him. "Mange sec Loa, alegba, accept this offering – and open the gates of truth."

Immediately, a red light flashed and the hamburger statue came to life, growing at least five to ten times bigger in front of him and his Slayer. Its eyes began to glow red as it grumbled, "You dare call upon the Loa, human?"

Merrick gulped, instantly knowing that this wasn't going to be easy, and lowered his eyes respectfully. "I beg your indulgence, ancient one. Will you grant us leave to state why my Slayer and I are here?"

"Very well," the giant hamburger statue replied. It then looked disdainfully at Buffy. "Even if she is but an ignorant airhead of a valley girl."

"HEY!" Buffy shouted, insulted and glaring at the Loa.

"Shut your mouth, right now," Merrick hissed at her. Then he said to the giant statue, "I come in supplication, oh great one, to request an answer to a question only your power can reveal."

"What question is this you speak of?"

"Gee, aren't you supposed to be some kinda oracle?" Buffy asked, still miffed about the 'valley girl' crack and ignoring Merrick's order to remain quiet. "So shouldn't you already know?"

Red lightning flashed from the Loa's eyes into Buffy's body, violently knocking her down to the ground. "Your insolence is most displeasing."

{ _Well, sorr-ee! But_ _ **you**_ _try holding a conversation with a cranky hamburger,_ } Buffy thought painfully, before getting up and glaring at the Loa again. Luckily, though, she didn't actually say that.

Merrick cleared his throat and then said, "Exalted one, my charge and I merely wished to know when –"

"When all the vampires on this plane would no longer exist," the Loa interrupted. "The answer is May, 1997. Perhaps."

The Watcher's eyes defied conventional medical science, and nearly bulged out of their sockets in pure shock and disbelief. { _What?_ }

"That's nearly a year away. And, uh, why the 'perhaps' part?" Buffy asked, as Merrick continued to gape in open-mouthed astonishment.

The Loa was silent for a few moments. It eventually confessed, "Even I cannot predict the actions of the green-eyed Oracle with any certainty. For he is a nexus of Chaos, as well as the Defender of Mankind."

"What-?" Merrick spluttered.

"It need not concern you, human. That Oracle is not someone whom you, personally, will ever meet," the Loa said brusquely.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Buffy demanded.

"Exactly what it sounds like," the giant statue replied. "And the only other thing I will say is that three portents will come to pass, Slayer, before you meet the Oracle in question. The first portent will involve an affair of the heart. The second will be a gathering of all the unclean things inhabiting the night. The final one will consume the building you are in in flames."

The Slayer started to protest at the lack of anything useful, when the Loa barked out, "Friendship, legion, and fire. Be heedful of the signs, Slayer, and trouble the Loa no more." And then the irate hamburger deactivated itself, shrinking and returning to a lifeless statue.

Merrick had _**no**_ idea how he was going to inform his superiors in England about this one, or whether he even should.

* * *

 **Outside 6305 Westminster Place, Sunnydale**

 **August 10** **th** **, 1996**

Xander was definitely starting to get desperate.

Ever since Mrs. Madison's funeral, he had been trying to find Madam Devora. He wanted to find her in order for the fortune-teller (or whatever she really was) to undo whatever she had done to him. To his way of thinking, there was no pointing trying to live in denial any longer; the black woman had definitely done _**something**_ to him. Even if the o-word still wasn't something he was willing to accept.

Everything that had happened since that Solstice holiday – including Jesse refusing to speak to him anymore, and no longer being the belle of the ball as far as Willow as concerned – meant that his entire life had changed. And not for the better, in his not-so-humble opinion.

Unfortunately, he'd been unable to find the psychic woman on his own. She had vanished, utterly and completely. No one at the Palisades Fair (which was currently located in New Jersey) had any idea where she'd gone – and all his efforts to track her down with his own resources had failed. Thus, Xander knew he had to get help.

That explained why he was here now at Willow's house, and ringing the front doorbell.

"Yes?" Willow's mom asked, as she opened the front door. Then the red-haired woman said, "Oh, Xander, it's you. What are you doing here?"

"Uh, hi, Mrs. Rosenberg. I'm, errr, I kinda need Will's help on something," Xander said quickly. "Mind if I come in?"

Sheila Rosenberg gestured, and Xander entered the house. Then he noticed Willow's father walking towards them from the living room. "Hi, Mr. Rosenberg –"

"Xander, this is an unexpected surprise. How are your parents?" the Jewish psychiatrist asked, interrupting whatever else Xander had to say.

"They're okay," Harris shrugged. "I mean, my dad's ankle is finally alright again, and mom's been busy with work and looking after him and everything else –"

"And you, yourself?" Mr. Rosenberg interrupted again. "How are you holding up during this troubling time?"

"I'm okay too, I guess," Xander said, a bit more uncertainly. "Got myself a summer job at the Sunnydale Stables and Country Club, actually. Having lots of fun shovelling horse poop around, sure – but at least the pay's okay."

"I see. So, then, in the context of your family's problematic situation, how do you see –" Willow's dad began to ask.

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Ira – leave the boy be," Mrs. Rosenberg cut off her husband's latest question, looking annoyed. "He's not your patient, and besides, we have to go – or we'll be late for dinner at that French restaurant!"

"Ah, yes, you're right. My apologies, Xander," Mr. Rosenberg bobbed his head, as his wife put on her coat and beckoned him over to the door. "Well, you know the rules – no loud music, no mess in terms of food and drink, and no entry into Willow's bedroom. Under _**any**_ circumstances. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sir," Xander said mechanically, nodding in acknowledgment.

"Good boy. We'll be back later tonight, so you and our daughter have fun doing – well, whatever it is your generation finds interesting, nowadays," Mrs. Rosenberg gave him a hurried wave, as she and Willow's dad quickly vanished out the front door.

"Yeah. Interesting. Funny you should put it like that," Xander muttered to himself, before he went upstairs to find his best female friend. Maybe best friend period, nowadays. He knocked on Willow's door and called out, "Will? It's me, Xander. Can you come out here for a sec? I need to –"

But before he could finish the sentence, the door was yanked open and a red-haired blur grabbed him by the arm and quickly yanked him inside. Xander yelped, "Will? What are you _**doing?!**_ You know this is totally against your parents' rules!"

"Never mind that, Xander, I've got something incredibly important to tell you! And show you!" Willow made the sound of geeker joy, as she ran over to her bed. She held up a book that Xander instantly recognized and said, "I've been reading –"

"This book? Which you stole from Amy's mom? Yeah, figured out that part already," Xander said, shaking his head.

"Hey, I didn't steal it! Well, not really," Willow replied uncomfortably. "I mean, I had to hide it from the cops and the coroner's people that night, and I-I-I never got the opportunity to return it to Amy before she and her dad left Sunnydale last week!"

{ _Yeah, if you say so. But why do I suddenly get the feeling you didn't exactly try to create an opportunity like that?_ } Xander thought to himself uneasily.

"Anyway, that's not important. Look at this, Xander, just look at what this says!" Willow excitedly shoved the book into his face.

"Willow? Sorry, but all I'm seeing here is a bunch of weird-looking symbols," he said, squinting slightly.

"Oh, they're not symbols, they're cuneiform script! The Sumerians and the Akkadians, they didn't exactly have a written alphabet like ours," Willow replied hurriedly, before moving the book further back. "Okay, I've had to educate myself on how to read a couple of dead languages, but seriously – everything I've learned from reading this spell book, it's just amazing –"

"Hang on, wait, just – stop! I mean, Willow, _**why**_ are you messing around with this stuff?" Xander interrupted, looking alarmed. "Geez louise – don't you remember what happened to Amy's mom that night?!"

"Uh, yeah, of course," Willow replied, instantly looking uncomfortable. "And I've already figured out how she got killed thanks to that spell she did, she musta miscalculated on that whole 'cleansing' thing. Maybe. But what happened to her, it won't happen to me –"

"How the hell can you know that for sure?!" Xander interrupted, as he grabbed the book out of her grasp. "That's why I'm gonna take this home with me, and burn it –"

[ NO! ] Willow's angry voice immediately shouted inside his mind, even though her lips never moved. [ Xander Harris, you gimme that book back **right now**! ]

"Wha –" Xander's lower jaw almost hit the floor, as he stared at Willow in complete shock.

"That's what I was trying to tell you," Willow said crossly, as she took the spell book out of his unresisting hands. "Magic is real, Xander! And I have the talent, just like Mrs. Madison said I did. I can do stuff now, just like you can!"

"What do you mean, just like I can?" Xander asked numbly, still trying to wrap his mind around the fact that Willow had actually spoken to him telepathically – like she was Professor X or something!

"Well, you know – the whole Oracle thing," Willow said, like it was totally obvious.

"Don't call me –" The words were automatic, as he tried to cling to the last few tattered shreds of denial. But then Xander paused, trying to organize his chaotic and turbulent thoughts as he finally admitted the truth to himself. { _I really am an Oracle, aren't I? Well, shit. Now what?_ }

He eventually added, "Willow, reason I came here tonight? It was for you to help me track down the woman who did this to me. So that she could undo it."

"What? Why?" the girl asked in confusion.

Xander took a deep breath, and slowly told Willow everything. Going into the fortune-teller's tent with Cordelia. The brunette walking out after hearing her fortune. The telekinesis thing, after he was about to leave as well. The trick with the cup previously containing the dirty well water. Feeling like he had to keep drinking after taking a small sip of the stuff, and Madam Devora's reverberating voice saying that from this day onwards, he would be her Oracle.

"Oh. Wow," Willow said somewhat dazedly. "That's just – wow!" Then she gazed at Xander in sudden horror. "Wait a minute, are you actually telling me – that you and Cordelia are gonna get _**married**_ one day?!"

"What? _**No!**_ C'mon, Will, I need ya to focus here," Xander said in annoyance. "I mean, I've tried to track down Madam Devora myself, but I –"

"Xander, are you attracted to Cordelia? Y'know, the way Jesse is?" Willow interrupted, now looking suspicious.

"Willow!" Xander snapped at her. Off her stubborn look, he said grumpily, "Okay, fine, I'll admit that Cordy's physically gorgeous – but then, just about every guy at Sunnydale High thinks that! Besides, her personality doesn't even remotely make up for – well, let's just say there's a reason why I refused to believe Madam Devora when she said Cordy and I were each other's happily ever after, and leave it at that, okay? Now, are you gonna help me track down that fortune-teller woman, or not?"

"I guess, but – why do you want her to undo what's happened to you, exactly?" Willow asked, feeling somewhat confused and deciding to leave the 'Cordelia' topic alone for now.

Xander stared at her, open-mouthed. Then he said, "Are you serious? Willow, Great Pan and all his weeping virgins, but what the hell makes ya think I actually _**want**_ any of this crap?"

"I –"

"I mean, hey! Have you forgotten the fact that any moment, I might say something – something I won't even be able to remember, mind you – that the studio audience is gonna find majorly upsetting?!" Xander shouted at her. "The same way you did? The same way Jesse did? Why the hell would I want _**that**_ as my superpower?!"

"Well, yeah, there's that, but – but you said that this fortune-teller, Madam Devora... she told you that some mad Seer will be coming to town soon. A bad guy, right? So, so, we might need your abilities to counterbalance his effect on things," Willow cogitated rapidly. "I mean, seer, oracle; it's kinda like comparing apples to oranges, ya know? Both are fruit and taste nice, and I don't think –"

"Willow. Not sure if you've noticed, but we've kinda wandered off the point here," Xander interrupted.

"No, I don't think so – Xander, this _**is**_ the point. You were given your prophetic power for a reason! What you said before, the balance, and that whole 'new future' thing this Madam Devora person mentioned? Plus, preventing the end of the world? That's why I don't think it's a good idea to try to change things," Willow shook her head.

Xander quickly found himself growing angry. "Oh, really? So, in that case, you'd be fine about swapping powers with me, right? You can be the Oracle – hey, interesting coincidence, but in the comics Barbara Gordon was also a redhead! – and I'll be the male witch in this partnership!"

"Xander –"

"Because maybe you haven't thought about it this way, Will – but ever since Mrs. Madison's funeral? I've been _**terrified**_ about opening my mouth around anyone, except you!" he shouted. "There's a reason I took that summer job as a stable boy at the local country club, ya know? Because horses don't get completely pissed off, if you go all green-eyed and tell them they're gonna end up _**dog food!**_ "

Willow blinked. "You got a summer job at the Sunnydale Stables and Country Club?" Then her face hardened in suspicion. "The same exclusive, members-only club where Cordelia and her parents hang out?"

"AUGGHHHH!" Xander groaned in heartfelt pain. "Will, could you _**please**_ drop the whole 'Cordelia' topic? She's not even an issue right now!"

"Not until you marry her, anyway," Willow said, with a weird expression on her face. "Because the alternative is you dying in Africa during 2005 or thereabouts, isn't it?"

"What? No! That's _**not**_ gonna happen!" he immediately shook his head in denial.

"How can you be so sure? I mean, Xander, think about it. If this Madam Devora really was psychic – and from everything you've told me, she's the real deal and not some typical circus hustler – then eventually, somehow... some way... you and Cordelia are gonna get together. Or else, you're gonna die before you're even twenty-five years old," Willow said slowly, looking at him in mounting horror.

"That's _**not**_ gonna happen!" Xander repeated himself, despite how Willow looked sure he was just saying that to convince her otherwise.

"I mean, sure – you and Cordy, that's completely against all the laws of God and man, pretty much goes without saying! But on the other hand – I, I, I don't want you to die, Xander. Because you're not allowed to die! I mean, yeah, eventually, when you're all old and wrinkly, not that I've ever imagined you as –"

She paused, briefly looking embarrassed. "Well, you know what I mean! And yeah, okay, not exactly thrilled about who's gonna be the mother of your kids – hey, I always thought that'd be _**me!**_ – but if it comes down to a choice between Cordelia Chase-Harris, and mourning at your grave within the next decade or so? Then I'd have to go with option the first – it's not even remotely a question! I'm pretty sure Jesse would say the exact same thing, too, if he was here right now."

"Oh, ye gods – Jesse," Xander groaned, face-palming briefly and deliberately giving up on the previous topic of conversation. "How the hell am I gonna make things right with him? He's pissed at me, and not even taking my phone calls. And if I try to _ **force**_ him to listen? He'll punch my lights out first and ask questions, like, never!"

"I'll talk to him. Get Jesse to forgive you, somehow, by the time school starts up again," Willow said comfortingly. "Even if I have to use magic to do it –"

"WHAT? Hey! Don't even _**joke**_ about that, Will!" Xander shouted at once, almost glaring at her. "Because I don't want what happened to Amy's mom to happen to you, understand? Ever!" He grabbed hold of her, pulling the red-haired girl into a tight hug. "Not. An. Option!"

"Okay. Okay, fine," Willow said soothingly, patting him on the back.

" _ **What**_ is going on here?!"

Instantly, Xander let go of Willow and turned towards the door – only to see a red-faced Ira Rosenberg standing at the doorway. { _Oh, no, oh crap-crap-crap! What's he doing back so_ _ **early**_ _?_ }

"Uh, no, Mr. Rosenberg, it's not what it looks like –"

That was all Xander had time to say before he was dragged out of Willow's bedroom, ordered not to come back to the residence until further notice, and then summarily kicked out of the house onto the mean streets of Sunnydale.

Typical Harris luck, and worst. Timing. Ever.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **September 5** **th** **, 1996**

Sophomore year. Finally starting. Augghhh.

Cordelia sighed as she left the student parking lot, truly wishing that she had her own wheels – and figuring that she was gonna have to pass Driver's Ed. as soon as possible after her sixteenth birthday, if she didn't want to be driven to school in her father's limo anymore.

"I'm telling you, Aura – that is _**not**_ a Gucci handbag!" Harmony Kendall sniped, as Cordelia walked over to join the popular girls known as the Cordettes.

"It is so, Harmony. My father got it for me, and he's been trying to stay on my good side since he got divorced from my mom. You just can't tell quality when you see it," Aura White shot back. "Oh, Cordelia, hey!"

"Cordelia! How was La Paz?" Harmony asked with a wide-eyed smile, one that looked a bit too genuine to be the real thing.

"Beaches, superb. Room service, adequate. Cabana boys? Totally scraping the bottom of the barrel," Cordy said in a bored tone, before Aura, Gwen, Joy and the other Cordettes tittered dutifully.

"What about La Paz's malls? The shoe shops – did they have the latest Jimmy Choo's down there?" Harmony wanted to know.

"God, Harmony. Did it ever occur to you that there are other things in life besides fashion and shoes?" Cordelia snapped, her temper clearly dark this morning. Well, that was hardly surprising; given the latest argument between her parents, which she'd pretended not to hear before escaping from the house as quickly as she could.

The way the other girls gaped at her, it was obvious such a thought had never once entered their minds. "Cordy, what is wrong with you? Did you hit your head or something?" Joy Breckenridge demanded.

"No, it's just – well, there are times when I wonder whether you guys can't see past the ends of your surgically altered noses!" Cordelia replied with an irritated toss of her hair.

"Hey, that's not true! I mean, my nose isn't altered," Joy said defensively.

"Oh, you mean those three weeks you disappeared over the summer, you really were in Italy?" Aura purred.

"That's right, I was!" Joy huffed.

"So how come you didn't come back with a tan?" Gwen Ditchik demanded, a question that was instantly echoed by the other girls.

"It-it rained the whole time," Joy muttered defiantly.

"In July?" Harmony demanded.

"Ugh! New topic of conversation. It's the first day of sophomore year, people," Cordelia decided to rein in her (supposedly faithful) followers. "So what I want to know is, what's the gossip on who's dating who?"

All the Cordettes began to babble excitedly, and Cordelia quickly raised her hand to silence them. "One at a time – ow! Hey, get your _**extreme**_ oafishness off of my three hundred dollar shoes!" she snapped as someone stumbled into her.

"Oh. Sorry, Cordy," Xander muttered, looking down and not making eye contact with anyone.

"Sorry? Is that all you've got to say for yourself, Dimwit?" the brunette demanded angrily, as the rest of the Cordettes came to a halt not far away.

"No, I mean, I, um – oh! I-I-I've still got that Gund bear of yours. I've been meaning to give it to you – since that day at the Palisades Fair," Harris semi-mumbled, still not looking at her.

"Huh. Really? Well, whatever; bring it around to the house later tonight. And what's wrong with you, anyway? Why won't you even look at me?" Cordelia demanded suspiciously.

Reluctantly, Xander brought his eyes up to briefly meet hers. And Cordelia instantly knew something was _**very**_ wrong.

Xander was obviously miserable about something; she could see it clearly in his eyes. But more importantly, he was also _**terrified**_ about something – no doubt about that, either. Cordelia had encountered enough frightened people to know all the signs and tells.

Still, that just did not compute. Even when he was scared – like that time in sixth grade when he'd gotten into a fight with a couple of older boys, who'd been trying to hurt Willow – Xander Harris was never terrified of anything, not even her.

But he was now.

"Cordelia, why are you wasting time even talking to this useless retard?" Harmony's whining voice caught her attention – and Xander's, from the way his gaze skipped over towards the blonde in question.

And the next moment, Cordelia saw something she simply couldn't believe – namely, Xander with impossibly _**green**_ eyes, which sparkled and shimmered briefly in the morning sunlight.

" _A date with a cute boy is worth shooting for, but being stood up by him could lead to unwelcome consequences for your popularity. So think carefully about whether the risk is worth the pain."_

Cordelia's hazel orbs almost went anime-wide, as she then saw Xander's eyes return to their normal chocolate-brown color. { _What the hell? Am I_ _ **seeing**_ _things, or what?_ }

"Hey, how did you know that Brad Konig and I have a date scheduled for Saturday night? Or that I was worried he's gonna, like, flake on me?" Harmony asked Xander, looking stunned.

Cordelia saw Xander's face go from confused to surprised to majorly panicked, before he turned around and almost sprinted away from her and Harmony.

{ _Well, that was – odd,_ } Cordy thought to herself uncertainly, as Harmony started to reconsider her plans for the weekend. She nodded at all the right times when the nervous blonde asked her whether or not it was worthwhile going through with the date – oddly enough, Harmony never once mentioned the whole green-eyed thing – but Cordelia's mind was almost totally focused on the _**weird**_ behavior Harris had just exhibited.

{ _Gonna have to get the truth out of him later on tonight, when Xander comes over to my house with that stuffed bear,_ } Cordelia decided, as she and Harmony finally caught up with the rest of the Cordettes and entered the high school for the first day of sophomore year.

TBC...

* * *

 **A/N:** Holy crap. Yesterday, I opened up my Inbox and there were 35 reviews and PMs waiting for me to read. Seriously, you guys are awesome, and thanks for the feedback! I hope you keep reading and reviewing the story...


	6. Issues of Unhappy People

**Chapter Six: Issues of Unhappy People**

 **Somewhere within the sewer tunnels, Sunnydale**

 **September 5** **th** **, 1996**

* * *

Spike was not a happy vampire.

Over the past month or so, he had become very unhappy, indeed. Because, for one thing, he'd been humiliated (in public!) by that evil old bastard – forcing him to rip one of his own teeth out. Didn't matter that soon afterwards Spike had cornered a vampire with roughly the same mouth and upper jaw size as himself, yanked out one of the guy's fangs, dusted the useless idiot, and then shoved the tooth into the empty hole in his mouth.

That didn't erase the shame over what had been done to him by Darla's sire, and even Darla herself – backhanding him that way!

Plus, there was all that stupid nonsense he'd been forced to listen to about the Old Ones, and how the Master was going to bring them back once he was free of his prison, and blah-blah-blippity-blah. Personally, Spike had become convinced that the Master wasn't all there in the head any longer – because if the pure demons ever came back and killed off all the blood bags in this world, then what the hell would all the vampires have left to eat?

Pig blood? Orang-utan? Otter? No bloody thanks, sunshine; Spike had tried them all at least once over the past century, and none of them came even remotely close to human.

Still, what was the alternative? He couldn't leave; Spike already knew that Drusilla wouldn't go, at least not willingly, and he wasn't about to stoop to kidnapping his own sire. He couldn't attempt to assassinate the Master, either; at least, not under the current circumstances. He was being watched, and he had neither allies nor a power base from which to launch such a coup d'état. Besides, the Master's loyal followers (including Darla herself, damn her) would attempt to kill _**him**_ afterwards –

{ _Bloody hell. Can't believe I'm actually thinking this, but I wish Angelus was 'ere,_ } Spike thought to himself broodily, as he continued to patrol the underground tunnels as per his latest orders from the Master. { _Gramps would have a plan on how we could take out that ponce by workin' together. Haven't forgotten that tale I once 'eard of how the Master beat the shit outta him way back when, and if I know Angelus, deep down – he'll be wantin' revenge fer that._ }

Spike quickly came to a decision on what to do. { _What the hell. Dru said her sire would show up eventually; so, reckon I'll just 'ave to be patient 'til the old man finally comes ta town._ _ **Then**_ _we can start makin' some changes around 'ere!_ }

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **Later that day**

Willow Rosenberg was not a happy female teenager.

A month ago, when Xander had been thrown out of her house after her dad had discovered them together in her bedroom – and hey, total misunderstanding there! – she had done her best to convince her parents that nothing had actually happened that night. That what her father had seen was just her comforting her best friend, in a moment of need, and that she _**wasn't**_ pregnant or anything!

Eventually, both her parents had been convinced of the truth after speaking with the Harris elders about the situation, plus Xander himself. Only problem was the _**entire**_ truth had come out after that conversation, namely that she was the one who had dragged Xander into her bedroom – which meant that she'd been grounded for the rest of the summer, as a punishment.

And that had been so _**totally**_ unfair! Okay, yeah, she had deliberately broken the rules regarding no boys being allowed in her bedroom. But an entire month's worth of house arrest, just for one measly violation of the Rosenberg parental code?

{ _It's times like this I wish I had a best female friend to unload on,_ } Willow thought to herself with a sigh, stopping at a drinking fountain in the school corridor in order to wet her lips. _{ I mean, I can't talk to Xander about all this – it'd only make him even more miserable. And Jesse still doesn't know the truth, so I can't talk to him about it either. Can I?_ }

"Hello, Willow. Wish I could say 'nice dress' – but that'd be a lie," a familiar voice said with a slight sneer in her tone, before Willow looked up to identify the newcomer.

"Cordelia. Did you want to use the water fountain?" Willow did her best to keep her voice civil, even though the other girl hadn't exactly been polite so far.

Cordelia's eyes narrowed. "Why would I want to drink out of the same fountain you've just contaminated with your germs? Puh-lease – I'm not that desperate, or that thirsty!"

At that moment, Willow was tempted to bury herself in the meek and submissive persona she'd used for the past eight years as her sole defence mechanism, but the knowledge gained over the past few months – that she was an apprentice witch now, and that she could hurt Cordelia in a way which the other girl couldn't _**possibly**_ expect – well, that made her decide that enough was enough.

To straighten her spine and look her nemesis directly in the eye, instead.

Willow said firmly, "Then what do you want?"

"I want to know what's going on with Xander," Cordelia lowered her voice slightly, her eyes narrowing. "Something was up with him in the parking lot this morning, and – wait. You haven't had the nerve to look me in the eye like that since the third grade. So, what's up with you as well? Spill, already!"

"And what if I don't?" Willow replied, maintaining eye contact with the Chase girl. "You gonna threaten me? Maybe hurt me, if I don't do whatever you want?"

"I'm Cordelia Chase, Rosenberg. I don't do threats. I just do revenge, if someone crosses me. Which _**you**_ of all people oughta know," Cordelia told her frankly, raising one eyebrow.

"And yet, you threatened to make sure that I got detention last year, if I didn't help you with your homework. You threatened Jesse about going to the police, if he didn't stop bugging you all the time. You even threatened Xander, before telling him one of your secrets back on Midsummer's Day –"

"He _**told**_ you about that? Auggh! I'm gonna _**kill**_ that pathetic asshole, for betraying my confidence!" Cordelia interrupted, growling angrily.

"No, Xander didn't do any such thing – he just mentioned that you'd told him a secret, he didn't say what it was," Willow said, causing Cordelia to look at her in surprise. "I didn't ask, and he didn't tell. Though it woulda served you right if he did."

"And what's _**that**_ supposed to mean?!" Cordelia demanded in annoyance.

"It means that you're a horrible person, Cordelia. It means that you use threats and intimidation to get your own way, like a spoiled brat. It means you _**want**_ people to be afraid of you, of what you can do to them with your family's money and influence." Willow straightened up even further and said in a low tone of voice, "Well, guess what? I'm not afraid of you any longer. Because I know how to hurt you now, Cordelia. Hurt you in a way which Daddy's fortune can't possibly protect you against."

"The hell are you talking about?" Cordelia demanded, looking surprised – and yes, Willow could tell, also slightly concerned by what she was hearing.

"Why should I tell you? Besides, you'd never believe me, even if I explained what happened over the summer," Willow said grimly. "Just stay away from me from now on, okay? 'Cause I'm _**not**_ your doormat anymore. And if you think you can force the issue, do something to get me to roll over and beg for forgiveness, make things go back to what they were before – which, knowing you, probably seems like the best option right now?"

She then sent the brunette a look which (she was pretty sure) made the rich girl want to hastily retreat. "You know the old saying – an eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth. Anything you do to me, I'll pay you back in kind. 'Cause I can do that now, ya know?"

"Where the hell did all this come from?" Cordelia asked, assessing her carefully.

"I already told you, you'd never believe me. Oh, one other thing – if you think you can hurt me by going after Jesse or Xander, instead? You'll regret it if you do," Willow promised her.

The novice witch could see Cordelia stare down her nose at her as she said haughtily, "Regret it, how?"

"Use your imagination," Willow told her. "I mean, what's the most humiliating thing you can imagine?"

"Being you," Cordelia answered scornfully, without a moment's hesitation. "And _**no one**_ threatens Cordelia Chase, you pathetic nerd –"

Willow's eyes became flinty as she interrupted, "I'm not threatening you, Cordelia. Just telling you what's what. You or your friends attack me, and I'll _**bury**_ you before we're done. But leave me in peace, and I'll extend the same courtesy to you. It's really that simple."

Willow brushed past Cordelia, feeling the other girl's eyes attempting to drill a hole in her back as she walked off.

* * *

 **4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

Cordelia Chase was not a happy high society princess.

That was because the start of sophomore year had been a near-disaster. Harmony's whining, the teachers assigning homework on the very first day, and even the latest gossip in the cafeteria had been totally annoying. Plus, her plan of getting some cute senior to be her new boyfriend had been completely derailed, thanks in no small part to encountering Willow at that water fountain! Cordelia honestly hadn't been able to believe some of the things the mousy little worm (former?) had spouted off about –

Because she _**wasn't**_ an evil bitch. Well, not the way Willow had accused her of being! She didn't use threats and intimidation to always get her own way, either – did she? Okay, yeah, sometimes she'd had to do the unpleasant but necessary thing, if one of her followers got funny ideas about who was the true queen of their little social circle. But that didn't make her into some evil demon from the ninth circle of Hell!

{ _What the heck happened over the summer?_ } Cordelia asked herself, as she paced around in the family mansion's library. { _I mean, something_ _ **major**_ _must have taken place, if Willow's now able to actually stand up for herself! Maybe I should – no, forget it. I can tell whenever someone's trying to bluff me, and Willow was completely serious about that all-out war scenario. And the last thing I need is an enemy who's got some kinda secret weapon up her sleeve, which I know nothing about! But, again, what gave her that sort of confidence?_ }

At that moment, the front doorbell rang, and a metaphorical light bulb lit up above Cordelia's head. { _Wait, that's it! The Dork is sure to know! And I can get him to talk, or my name's not Cordelia Chase!_ }

She ran from the library, heading for the lobby and the front door of the mansion. Cordy arrived at her destination just as Lupe the maid was about to open up, calling out, "I got it! I got it!"

"Mees Cordeehlia?" the surprised-looking Latino woman asked uncertainly, as she bustled the maid aside and grabbed the doorhandle.

"Xander! Get in here!" Cordy demanded after opening the door, and grabbing his right wrist. Harris certainly looked surprised as he was yanked into the house, and then Cordy slammed the door shut.

"Oh! Welcome home, Mister Bear," the Chase girl said with a small smile, yanking the stuffed toy out of Xander's grasp and then quickly handing it over to the maid. "Lupe, be a lamb and take this up to my room, will you? Xander and I need to discuss a few things before he goes home – in private."

"As you weesh, Mees Cordeehlia," Lupe said hesitantly, before turning around and heading for the main staircase.

"All right, Dweeb, come with me," Cordy said determinedly, and like a female force of nature, she grabbed Xander's arm and dragged him over to the library.

"Uh, what's goin' on?" Xander asked in confusion, looking at the brunette for a moment – before quickly averting his eyes. Something which Cordelia did not fail to miss.

"Look at me. I said _**look**_ at me, Harris!" Cordy shouted, grabbing his head and forcing him to look her in the eye. "What the hell's happened to you, since that day we spent together at the Palisades Fair? Why can't you even look me in the eye anymore?"

"It's – complicated," Idiot Boy said feebly, unable to avoid her gaze. "And it's, it's nothing personal. These days, I just don't –" He suddenly shut himself up, refusing to keep going.

"You just don't what? Dammit, Xander – are you in trouble of some kind? Hey, is that why Willow threatened me earlier today?" Cordelia asked, suddenly feeling confused.

"Will threatened you?" Now the Doofus looked surprised as all hell. "Seriously?"

"Well, sort of," she shrugged, but still maintaining eye contact with him. "More like she warned me that she was done being a pushover, and that she could _**hurt**_ me if she had to!"

"She did? Huh. Yeah. Guess Will could at that, now that she's –" Again, Harris abruptly shut himself up.

"Now that she's _**what?!**_ Tell me!" Cordelia ordered him in no uncertain terms.

"Nah, no point. You'd never believe it. I know _**I**_ wouldn't believe it, if I hadn't seen it with my own eyes," Xander said vaguely. Too vaguely for her liking.

Going over recent events and deciding to play a hunch, Cordelia then said, "Does it have anything to do with what happened between you and Harmony, earlier today?"

{ _Bingo!_ } she thought triumphantly, as she saw the expression on the Doof's face tighten up. { _All right, now, how to play this –_ }

"I think it's time I went home," Xander moved back, breaking her hold on his head. "And Cor, do yourself a favor? From now on, stay away from Willow – and from me. It's the smartest possible thing you can do, and if you only ever _**once**_ listen to my advice? Then listen to it now. Neither of us are people you want to be around anymore."

Cordelia stared at him almost incredulously. "You're serious. But _**why**_? Tell me what's wrong, maybe I can help."

"No. You can't help me. Or – on second thoughts, hey, maybe you can," Harris said, as he got a thoughtful look on his face. "See, I've been trying to track down Madam Devora –"

"Who?"

"The fortune-teller at the Palisades Fair. You remember her, don't you? Back on Midsummer's Day, when we –"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, I remember now! The big faker who said that I was gonna die, if I didn't marry you a few years after high school was over. But why do you want to find her?" Cordelia wrinkled her nose in disgust as she asked that.

"I, uh – let's just say I need her to do something for me, and leave it at that, okay?" Xander asked, averting his eyes once more.

"No, _**not**_ okay! I mean, what the hell have you gotten mixed up with, already?!" she demanded. "Don't you remember what I told you happened to my mother, getting suckered in by that sort of thing?"

Quick as a flash Cordelia scowled, her facial expression changing. "And, by the way – what was the big idea mentioning to Willow how I'd told you that secret, even if you didn't actually tell her anything?"

"It's Willow; she's like the sister I never had. I don't have any secrets from her," Xander shrugged helplessly. "Apart from that one, of course."

"Really," Cordelia replied, her scowl intensifying. She tried to ignore the sting of how she didn't have anyone like that – a brotherly type she could trust without reservation, and could confide in without worrying how her secrets might be used against her later.

{ _Not like Cousin Tim or any of your past boyfriends qualify on that level, or even that loser Jesse – who lusts after you like a whipped slave,_ } a snide, irritating voice from the back of her head informed her, somewhat mockingly. { _In fact, just in case you didn't realize it? Harris here is probably the closest thing to a male confidant you have._ }

Cordelia shook her head slightly, dismissing that irritating inner voice at once. Then he said to her companion, "All right, fine, whatever. But if you want my help finding that fake psychic, then I need to know why."

"Sorry. No deal," Xander instantly shook his head in refusal. "Trust me, you don't want to know. And like I said, I need to get going –"

"Alexander? Cordelia? What are you two doing in here?"

Both of them turned to the library's door, surprised to see her father standing there. The Dumbass immediately averted his eyes as Cordelia said, "Daddy, hi! And Xander and I were just, um, talking."

"Talking about what?" Her father then seemed to target the Dweeb as he added, "I thought you weren't exactly friends with my daughter any longer? Or at least that's what I recall you saying at that hospital, a few months ago."

"What? What hospital?" She scowled again at Xander's silent shrug, "Hey! Talk to me, Loser Boy! When were you and Daddy together at some way-smelly hospital?"

"Uh, the night after Midsummer's Eve," Harris semi-mumbled.

"Yes, that was the night your mother needed hospitalization for her Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. Alexander and his parents were there, since his father had broken his ankle," Daddy told her, before focusing back on the lamer. "So, how's Tony doing nowadays?"

"Okay," Xander replied, and Cordelia couldn't help noticing that he still wasn't making eye contact with either her or her father. "Uh, 'scuse me, Mr. Chase, but I sorta need to leave. Kinda right now-ish."

"Is there some sort of problem?" Daddy asked, looking concerned. "Alexander, am I making you uncomfortable for some reason? Because that wasn't my intention, please believe me."

"No, I just –"

{ _What, now he can't string more than three words together?_ } Cordy honestly didn't get why Harris was acting like a complete spaz, all of a sudden. { _I mean – what's Xander's deal, already? Why's he acting like such a nervous idiot?_ }

She wasn't able to figure it out before Daddy asked her to give him and Xander some privacy – and so, Cordelia walked out the door with a puzzled frown on her face.

* * *

 **Chase mansion library, Sunnydale**

 **A moment later**

David Chase was not a happy millionaire.

For starters, his marriage was definitely on the rocks nowadays – what with him and Julia fighting all the time. It was affecting his relationship with their daughter, too, no doubt about it; his little princess was a smart girl, and no matter what he did to try to shield her from the fighting, David was sure that Cordelia knew just how difficult things had become on the domestic front.

Not to mention the company's profit margins weren't looking all that hot during this financial quarter, either. Despite some creative book-keeping by his chief accountant, and thus being able to avoid paying any taxes at the Federal level, business wasn't booming in any sense of the word. It worried the former Marine somewhat that one day, he would no longer be able to keep his wife and daughter in the lifestyle to which they had become accustomed –

But what the hell. If the IRS hadn't figured it out since 1987, it was unlikely they'd do so anytime soon and take him down for tax fraud.

Still, David had been surprised to hear from Lupe that Tony's son was here tonight, and that Cordelia had personally greeted him at the front door. And even more surprising was how the Harris boy started acting, when he walked in on the kids' conversation –

{ _Wait a minute. Alexander hasn't become_ _ **interested**_ _in Cordelia since that night in the hospital, has he?_ }

Mr. Chase studied the squirming male teen after his daughter had left the library, and quickly decided that his suspicions were probably correct. Alexander (the name 'Xander' was just too ridiculous to use, no matter how hard he tried to do so) was definitely acting like a nervous wreck. And David knew from personal experience just how intimidating it could be facing the father of the girl you wanted to date –

His first ever meeting with Old Man Morris, Julia's father, was sufficient proof of that.

{ _Still, is Alexander the right sort of boy I want dating my daughter? I don't really know what he's like anymore, after all,_ } David cogitated quickly. { _Hmm. Time to update my knowledge base a little, no doubt about it._ }

"I think we need to talk, Alexander. Would you like a drink?" David offered, waving a hand at the nearby table. "Nothing alcoholic, of course."

"Uh, no thanks, sir. And really, I should get going –"

"Not quite yet, please. I mean, it occurs to me that we don't really know each other anymore; you're obviously not the same person you were back when you were eight years old," he interrupted the male teen. "So, why don't you tell me a little about yourself?"

Alexander frowned. "I, uh, I'm not sure what you mean, sir." The boy quickly darted a look at him, earning himself one or two points in David's book. "Um, what exactly would you like to know?"

"Well, for starters, what are your interests? What are your plans for the future? What did you get up to during the summer, even?"

"Uh, I got a job at the Sunnydale Stables and Country Club. Figured it couldn't hurt to make some extra cash over the summer to help cover the family expenses," Alexander replied, frowning again. "And I guess I liked it – well, apart from having to shovel all that horse manure around. Didn't really enjoy that part, but I kinda doubt anyone would have."

"And what about my other questions?" David asked, making a mental note to check with the manager of the country club – find out just how good an employee Alexander had been.

"My interests? Well, I like hanging with my friends. I like going to the movies. I like eating Twinkies and Ho-Ho's. I liked shop class today at school. As for my plans for the future, uh – not really sure right now, I guess. Kinda depends on what happens after I find a certain woman I'm looking for."

David raised his eyebrows. "And my daughter is that 'certain woman' you're looking for?"

"What? _**No!**_ " Alexander seemed thoroughly shocked and surprised as he said that, finally making eye contact for more than a fleeting moment. "Sir? What, what are you – I mean, were you thinking that I wanted to _**date**_ Cordelia?"

David instantly had the horrible feeling that he'd definitely jumped to the wrong sort of conclusions here. "Well, yes. So, uh, does that mean you're not interested in her?"

"No!" Immediately, Tony's son qualified that statement, "Well, I mean, don't get me wrong, sir – Cordy's one of the hottest-looking girls at school, and there's plenty of guys who'd get down on their knees and beg her to date 'em – but, uh, fact is she's way outta my league. Not to mention my best friend is in love with her, plus I'm pretty darn sure she isn't even remotely interested in me. So I, um..."

"I see," Mr. Chase nodded, feeling somewhat embarrassed about all the assumptions he'd made just now. "So, in a nutshell – you're just friends now?"

"Uh... well, not sure if the word 'friends' really applies, sir," Alexander replied, looking fairly embarrassed himself. "I mean, Cordy and I, we basically live in two totally different worlds. And ever since third grade, those worlds have been growing further and further apart, so – kinda hard to be friends under those circumstances."

"That's too bad," David said reflectively, before looking back at his young acquaintance. "Because I must admit, Alexander, I find myself liking you more than I thought I would. I mean, that sort of honesty isn't something you'd find in just any boy your age! That's why Cordelia could probably do a lot worse than you in terms of finding someone to date, I can't help thinking."

"Uh, that's very kind of you to say, sir," the Harris boy said with a brief, embarrassed grin. "Even though I kinda doubt Mrs. Chase would agree with you about that. Anyway, I really ought to get going –"

"Wait, before you go – there's one last thing I'd like to know," David interrupted. "I mean – if you weren't acting so nervous because you were trying to work up the courage to ask for permission to date my little girl, then why exactly were you acting so... well, scared, for want of a better word?"

Alexander opened his mouth –

{ _What the_ _ **hell?!**_ } David was instantly thunderstruck as the boy's eyes morphed into a strange shade of _**green**_ , seeming to sparkle and shimmer as well. { _How did he do that?_ }

" _You may be rich and powerful now, but keep in mind that cheaters never prosper, tax cheats least of all. And compromise may result in brief domestic bliss, but your daughter's blood will give it an odor most foul."_

Instantly, David felt shock and horror as Alexander blurted out his deepest, darkest secret. And while he couldn't help focusing on the second sentence to a minor extent, most of his attention was focused on the fact that his illegal activities were now exposed, out in the open –

He almost failed to notice the young man's eyes go back to their normal color as Alexander then said, "I'd really not say why I was so, uh, nervous, sir. Now, I gotta get going –"

"What do you want, Alexander? Hush money? If so, you can forget it," David said harshly, glaring at the youth.

"Uh, sir? Why would I want hush money? And hush money about what?" Alexander asked in apparent confusion, before his face grew alarmed. "Uh, wait – I didn't say something just now which would make you think that, did I?"

"Alexander, are you trying to play games with me? Because believe me, I don't –"

"No, no, no! No games! Not after the way you helped my dad out with that former AA guy! I swear to you, sir, I wouldn't do that!" the boy yelped.

"Then, what?" David asked suspiciously.

"Uh, see, sometimes, I just – blurt out stuff, and I really don't know why I do it, but the important thing is, you really shouldn't pay any attention to anything I say!" the youth babbled, looking panicked. "I'm sure that whatever it was I just said, I, uh –"

"Alexander, do you _**really**_ expect me to believe you don't remember what it was you said to me just now? Or that I didn't see your eyes turn _**green**_ for a few moments?!" he demanded angrily.

"Uh – bye!"

Before David could do anything to stop him, Alexander had raced out of the library like his ass was on fire. He thought about chasing after the teenager, but then quickly decided against it. He had an image to think about, after all.

{ _Hrmm. Is it possible that boy was actually telling me the truth?_ } David suddenly asked himself, frowning. _{ I've seen and heard more than my fair share of weird things happening in Sunnydale, after all. Like back in high school, Lance Brooks senior had just about everyone kissing his ring – even though his family had no real money to speak of. Plus that boy Cordelia was so interested in a few months ago, Daryl Epps, who died – his body simply vanished out of the town morgue, with no explanation ever given why. Even when I bought my little girl that backpack with a teddy bear on it as a joke, and eventually, that sort of thing became a fashion trend! So maybe, just maybe, Tony's son isn't a threat to me and my family. Maybe all this was just a – a fluke of some kind?_ }

{ _Then again, Alexander might have been smart enough to tell me exactly what I was wanting to hear..._ }

David decided to pour himself a Scotch on the rocks, and then he sat down in his favorite chair to think about the situation some more. Unsurprisingly, he'd already started to make vague plans on how to deal with the perceived (possible) threat.

For example, even though it totally went against his principles to do such a thing, Alexander could be paid off quite handsomely to stay quiet about what he knew.

Better yet, to completely ensure the boy's silence, he could eventually become Cordelia's boyfriend instead –

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope you liked it, and thanks as always to everyone who's reading and reviewing and send feedback about the story!


	7. Confrontations

**Chapter Seven: Confrontations**

 **Outside the Delta Zeta Kappa fraternity of Crestwood College, Sunnydale**

 **September 6** **th** **, 1996**

* * *

Spike easily jumped over the fence of the cemetery onto the community college grounds, wearing his demon face and sniffing in puzzlement.

He was feeling somewhat better since his patrol of the sewers twenty-four ago, as he'd managed to kill some city council workers who were new to the job and hadn't learned the unwritten rules yet. But still, Spike wasn't happy by any means –

Because he didn't like being treated as a servant by Darla and the Master, if nothing else.

It reminded him way too much of his life as a human, and how the lower classes had been treated back then. Not that William the bloody awful poet had been any sort of common boot-brush or chimneysweep, granted, but unlike most of his peers – he _**had**_ been aware that the poor didn't exactly have an easy time of it.

And being treated like one of those serfs now, as a vampire – that was enough to make his inner demon snarl and gnash its teeth like a bloodthirsty tiger. It made him want to kill and feed and bathe in blood, to relieve the anger thumping away at the base of his skull.

"Oh, my poor Spoike. You're not 'appy, are you?"

{ _Dru?_ } Spike whirled around in surprise, to see his sire standing there staring at him sorrowfully. "Wot? I mean, heck, luv, what are ya doin' 'ere? Didn't even know I'd be comin' to this place myself, 'til just now –"

"Shhh," Drusilla put a finger to his lips. "It's close, my lovely Willy. Remember I told you, how the sky was raining snakes? It's 'ere now, deep down in its burrow. Switzerland. Bavaria. Black Thorn Castle. Oh, what fun you 'ad, after I left you behind back then!"

Spike was confused, before the memories exploded in his undead brain. "Bloody hell, Dru! Machida?!"

In an instant Spike was back in 1943 Germany, while he was being hunted by the Nazis. Starving, one night he'd stayed out too long and was frantically searching for a place to hide from the coming sunrise – when he'd stumbled upon a virgin girl, and he'd immediately attempted to drink her. But he'd gotten captured by human minions of the snake-like demon called Machida before he could even get near her. And after being taken to the nearby castle, Machida's home, he'd agreed to temporarily aid the damn thing – in order to make enough dosh to go find Drusilla in style. Well, what counted as style back then, anyway!

Here and now, Spike remembered how Machida fed on three virgins once a year as offerings from his human vassals, in return for worldly riches and influence. He also remembered how he'd helped abduct the third girl for the annual sacrifice to Machida fifty-odd years ago, even though he'd felt utterly disgusted at lowering himself to the status of an errand boy by doing so.

He even remembered how, on the night of Machida's feast, he had talked with the head of the demonic cult; that sodding arse called Lars Warner. Before he'd decided enough was enough, and vacating the castle – just before Hitler's storm-troopers had arrived, looking for him.

(Of course, it wasn't _**his**_ fault that he'd been captured by the Nazis later that year, at a so-called 'free virgin blood' party in Spain. That had been a trap, and revenge on Warner's behalf for leading the S.S. straight to his and Machida's door.)

"So. Machida's set up shop 'ere, has he? Warner and his lot must have brought 'im over, after the war –" Spike started to say.

"Shhh," Drusilla put a finger to his lips again. Then she pointed that finger off towards the left. "Look, Spoike! See!"

Spike's eyes went wide. { _A grandson?_ } he asked himself, after spying some git who was the spit 'n image of Lars Warner back then, walking towards the nearby frat house. { _Yeah, reckon it has to be! Still, what's all this s'posed to mean?_ }

"Thomas. Tom. Tommy," Dru giggled, and Spike correctly guessed that that was the blood bag's name; Tom Warner. His sire then chanted crazily, "Little Tommy Warner, sits in the corner. What shall he eat? White bread in a sauna! How shall he cut it, without any knife? How shall he know lies from truth, with suspicion so rife?"

The rhyme made no sense to Spike, even though he suspected it was a prophetic warning of some sort. He was briefly tempted to try to gain entry into the frat house, and kill the whelp as revenge for what his grandfather had done back in the Forties – but Drusilla's insistent tugging on his arm quickly made Spike reconsider his plans.

If his precognitive sire didn't think the time was right for him to do that, then who was he to argue with her?

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **Later that morning**

"MR. CHASE KNOWS?!" Willow yelped, looking at Xander in horror.

The school library was deserted apart from the two of them, but the librarian named Mrs. Winston – a grim-faced old lady who was rumored to be retiring soon, thank God! – still gave her and Xander the stink eye for the loud outburst. Grimacing, Willow grabbed the object of her unrequited affections by the arm and yanked him along as they headed deep into the stacks for some privacy.

"There, that's better. Now, what happened?!" she demanded.

"What do you _**think**_ happened, Will? I made a complete mess of things, even without meaning to! Dammit, I _**hate**_ this!" Xander growled, causing her to take a step back in alarm. "I'm telling ya, you have _**no**_ idea how much this sucks! I mean, bad enough that I went all green-eyed o-word in front of Harmony and Cordelia yesterday morning, but now that I did it with Cordy's dad as well –"

"Whoa! Wait. What? Hang on, Xander, I, uh – rewind. You did the Oracle thing in front of those two?" Willow interrupted, staring at him oddly. "Why were you even near them in the first place?"

Big goofball that he was (at least in her view), Xander just sighed. "I sorta just bumped into them, okay? Wasn't looking where I was going, and kinda stomped on Cordelia's foot. And as for the rest of it, I had to make up something as an excuse, and so I mentioned that stuffed bear Cordy won at the fairgrounds during the summer. Last night, I took it over to her house, her dad caught us talking – and you pretty much know the rest."

"You're right, this is a mess," Willow shook her head. "I mean, you don't even know what you said to Cordy's dad, do you? Let alone Cordelia and Harmony?"

"Uh, no to the first, and sorta but not exactly to the second. I mean, it had something to do with Harmony's upcoming date with a guy named Brad something. Ugh – damn it, Will! I always thought if I got a superpower of some kind, I'd be like Spiderman, or Superman, or someone cool like that!" Xander semi-exploded. "Not – this!"

"Come on, Xander, think!" Willow insisted, ignoring the diatribe. "And never mind that vacuous blonde tramp, we need to focus on Cordelia's father! He musta said something to give you some clues about what you prophesized to him, right?"

"Okay, yeah. I mean, whatever I said to Mr. Chase, I know it musta been something bad – 'cause he accused me of wanting hush money afterwards. Which I so didn't!" Xander blew out a loud breath.

"He's into something illegal?" She now felt concerned. "Xander – I don't like the sound of this. You, you shouldn't talk to him anymore."

"I never wanted to talk to him _**in the first place!**_ " Xander almost shouted. "But Odin's beard, Will, what am I supposed to do? I try to avoid eye contact with everyone, like Amy's mom suggested – but I can't not talk to people for the rest of my life! My parents talk to me at home. The teachers talk to me here at school! Sure, I don't have any friends other than you and Jesse, but I can't completely avoid everyone at Sunnydale High and never speak to them! Can I?"

"No, I guess not. And, and we really need to do something about Jesse, don't we? He has to be told about all this," Willow said slowly, chewing her lower lip slightly. { _And for more reasons than one!_ }

"Easier said than done, Will. And what's all this 'we' stuff? I already told ya, Jesse isn't gonna listen to _**me**_ ," Xander replied fatalistically. "It's been over a month since that – incident – at Mrs. Madison's funeral, and he's still pissed off! And that's _**another**_ reason right there to hate what's happened! So, please, tell me you've got some good news on the Madam Devora front?"

"Sorry, Xander. I haven't been able to find anything online," Willow shrugged. "Well, nothing relevant, anyway. I mean, do you have any idea how many people are named 'Devora' in this country? Without a social security number or even a surname to work with, it's like looking for a needle in a haystack so big it's the size of..." she trailed off, looking for an appropriate comparison. "Well, the entire United States, I guess!"

"Great," Xander briefly threw his hands up in disgust. "So, basically, I'm boned."

"Well, no, not necessarily," Willow insisted, absently tucking some strands of hair behind her left ear. "I mean, there are some things I can do to keep a cyber-eye on the lookout for the Fortune-teller Lady. But don't be surprised if it takes a while, okay? Especially if she's deliberately attempting to stay underneath the radar, so to speak."

"Okay. All right," Xander sighed. "So, whaddya think? We corner Jesse, and simply tell him everything?"

"And he'd believe us just like that, of course?" Then she paused.

"On second thoughts, leave that part up to me," Willow said smugly.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School computer lab, Sunnydale**

 **Just before lunchtime**

Jesse stared longingly at the girl of his dreams as she and her followers swept out of the classroom, before he returned his gaze to the computer screen. He couldn't focus enough to get Cordelia's recent words out of his mind, though.

{ _Of course I'm going to the Bronze later on. Hello, Friday night? There's no other place to go in Sunnydale, duh! Besides, I met a totally cute college freshman named Richard Anderson there recently. Almost didn't happen, actually – I sorta bumped into him after being distracted by one of the Loser Squad. And if there's anything better than dating a high school senior – it's dating a Delta Zeta Kappa, who's so rich he drives a black '95 BMW!_ }

Jesse sighed, feeling totally glum. Bad enough that Cordelia was planning on catching herself a man who could give her everything in life he couldn't, but she also –

Well, his beloved either completely ignored him, which was bearable, or she actually deigned to take notice of him and verbally castrate him in front of her friends, which wasn't. It hurt being a called a member of the Loser Squad, if nothing else. Unwillingly, Jesse began to wonder if Willow and Xander had been right all along –

{ _No! They_ _ **can't**_ _be right about me and Cordy,_ } he immediately cogitated, banishing such treasonous thoughts at once. { _I'm not giving up on her, damn it. I mean, did Romeo ever give up on Juliet? Did Marc Antony ever give up on Cleopatra? Heck, in the movie, did King Solomon ever give up on the Queen of Sheba? No, of course not! So I'm_ _not giving up on_ _ **my**_ _queen either!_ }

Satisfied with his decision, Jesse quickly saved his program and then switched off his computer. He absently noted that he was the last person left in the room; even the teacher had left by now. { _Eh, never mind. Huh, wonder what's good today in the cafeteria? Probably –_ }

Jesse never managed to finish that thought, though, as Willow and Xander came into the computer lab and the redhead shut the door behind her.

"What do you two want?" he demanded with an unfriendly tone.

"Okay, ya know what? This hostility thing, it ends now," Willow said firmly. "Jesse, we need to talk to you. And you're not leaving until we've had our say!"

"Oh, spare me the Resolve Face, will ya, Willow? It hasn't worked on anyone since the fifth grade," Jesse told her brusquely. Then he sighed at the upset look on the girl's face. "Look, far as I'm concerned? We've got nothing to say to each other. You and Xander aren't on board with me and Cordelia, that means –"

"You're choosing her over us, yeah, yeah, got that memo," Xander interrupted. "But newsflash, that's not what Will and I wanna talk to you about."

"It's not?" Jesse immediately felt astonished.

"No, it's not. Well, maybe somewhat peripherally, but that's it," Willow qualified her previous statement. "Jesse, I don't know any other way to say this, so I'll just say it. Magic is real."

He just stared at her in silence for roughly ten seconds. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard her, bud," Xander shrugged. "Magic's real. I've seen it myself, even if I was in denial about it for quite a while. Amy's mom was a professional witch, and Willow's got the potential for the mojo as well."

"This is – some kinda gag, right? I mean, what else am I supposed to think? Because you two can't be serious, can you?" Jesse eventually said in bewilderment. "I mean, there's no such thing as magic!"

"That's what I thought too, at first," Xander shrugged again. "Thinking that's your cue, Will."

[ Can you hear me, Jesse? ] Willow 'said', even though her lips never moved. [ Can you hear my voice inside your mind? ]

"WHOA!" Jesse stepped back in alarm. Then he squinted at her, "Willow? That's gotta be the best ventriloquist act I've ever seen! Wow. Where the hell did you learn how to pull that off?"

Willow took out some bottled water from her backpack and quickly drank, pinching her nostrils shut. [ I'm not a ventriloquist, Jesse. Even the best stage magician in the world can't pull off something like this, can he? Believe it or not, I really am speaking to you telepathically. It's one of the powers I've developed, once I started practicing the craft. Kinda neat, huh? ]

"What the _**hell?!**_ " Jesse totally freaked at once. "This, this can't be happening..."

"Yup. Said the same thing myself, the night I first found out about all this. Totally don't blame ya if you wanna Gonzo about it," Xander shrugged fatalistically, as Jesse dazedly turned to face him. "I woulda done the same thing, except Amy's mom had us all magically immobilized at the time."

"Huh?"

Jesse listened, stunned and confused, as Willow (with the occasional comment by Xander) proceeded to tell him the truth about what had really happened to Mrs. Madison. Once they were done, he honestly didn't know what to say. He eventually went with, "So, so other people know about this stuff? I mean, grown-up's?"

"Amy's dad, according to what she said that night. And I'm assuming there are others, even if I have no idea who," Xander shrugged again.

"Uh..." Jesse slapped the side of his head with the butt of his palm, forcing his brain to try to reboot. "So, so Willow can do this stuff. Amy can as well – maybe. Even if she and her dad have left town. Uh, anyone else?"

"Uh, I've looked into that. And there's all the New Agers out there, of course. Not to mention Wicca practitioners. But real witches – people like that would know how to stay hidden, Jesse. They probably have ancient traditions... heck, they've probably evolved into something like a magical society, y'know, covens who can hide in plain sight," Willow said musingly.

Jesse briefly stared at her in silence. "Willow. Please don't take this the wrong way, but – are you out of your mind?"

"Jesse! Look, the way I understand it, witches have the ability to do spells which work like a physical tool – and that means they can get together, research and store their history and accomplishments. So where do you think I'm going with this?" his female friend demanded.

Bit too theoretical for him, but he got the point. "They learn a lot?"

Xander nodded. "Especially how to stay hidden. Which, believe me, is something I wish _**I**_ could do!"

Jesse whirled towards him in surprise. "What – I mean, can _**you**_ do magic as well? Are you a male witch? Warlock? Wizard? Whatever the right word is?"

"Naw, dude, I can't do magic. I suffer from something worse. A _**lot**_ worse," Xander replied with a miserable look on his face.

Jesse didn't get that, and said so. Willow therefore explained about the whole Oracle thing to him.

"Wow. So, so, at the funeral back in July – _**that's**_ why you said that crap about Cordelia despising my ass?" he asked somewhat dazedly, staring at Xander.

"Not that I remember saying anything like that to you – I never do, whenever I go all green-eyed o-word – but, basically, yeah," Xander shrugged, looking somewhat embarrassed.

"But –" Jesse stopped and shook his head. "Look, I don't get all of this yet – and hell, I probably never will – but these, uh, pronouncements of yours, Xan. You're not always right, are you? I mean, you coulda been wrong saying that to me about Cordy, couldn't you?"

"Oh, Jesse, please!" Willow said reprovingly, before Xander could say anything. " _ **What**_ is it gonna take for you to wake up and smell the coffee, where Cordelia's concerned? I mean, yeah – as far as I know, it's always 'advice' of some sort that comes out of Xander's mouth. Or maybe a warning of some kind. But we don't need _**any**_ kind of warning or advice to know that Cordelia Chase is bad news! Why else do you think I finally stood up for myself yesterday, and told that girl not to come near me again?"

"You what?!"

"Think about it, dude. Cordy and her flock have been picking on Willow nonstop since third grade. So what did ya think would happen, now that she can go all Wicked Witch of the West on their asses?" Xander asked him. Then the guy turned to the redhead and added, "Way I see it, Will, at least one of the Cordettes is gonna come after you, even if Cordy orders 'em to leave you alone from now on."

"Yeah, that's pretty much a given. Pack psychology – they'll think Cordelia's acting weak if she tells them that, and use humiliating me to try to pull off a leadership coup. But that group of airheads will quickly get the message, if, say... the first one to try something like that shows up at school the next day, with pink and purple hair," Willow grinned nastily.

Off Jesse and Xander's looks she said defensively, "Hey, if they go on the offensive, so will I! And after the last eight years –"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, we got it," Jesse interrupted, really not wanting to get into that topic right now. It had always pained him greatly knowing that the love of his life could be so – cruel – to one of his two best friends, but now was _**really**_ not the time to get into that subject. "Anyway, so what's next?"

"Up to you," Xander shrugged yet again. "I mean, now that you know the truth, I was kinda hoping we could be friends again?"

"Friends –" Jesse started to say, but then he stopped as the true reality of the situation hit him like a ton of bricks. His mind whirling, he eventually said, "Friends? Uh, why would you and Willow wanna be friends with me any longer?"

"Huh?" both the redhead and the brunet said in unison, looking confused.

"Well, let's face it. You guys are sorta like the Wonder Twins now, right? But I'm just Joe Normal. So – why would you wanna hang with me any longer?" Jesse asked, his heart sinking. "I mean, what do _**I**_ have to offer if you two eventually start using your powers in order to save the world, or whatever? I'd just get in the way –"

"No you wouldn't!" Willow objected fiercely. "Jesse, you're being ridiculous!"

"Am I?" he asked, ignoring the redhead's hurt expression. "Think about it, Will. I mean, if this was the comics – what the heck character would I be? The Alfred to your Batgirl and Batman, maybe? The Wong to your Clea and Stephen Strange? And that's a best case scenario – I'm basically the Jimmy Olsen type right now, and we all know it."

"Grrf! Auggh," Willow growled, looking annoyed. "You're being ludicrous! Not to mention, such a _**boy!**_ "

"All comics references aside, bud – I need your help," Xander said to him fervently. "'Cause I've been scared shitless of talking to anyone besides Willow, ya know? At least with her – and now you – I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not. But everyone else? Maybe Mrs. Madison had a point about me being kidnapped and held prisoner for the rest of my life because of what I can do now, I dunno. And hey, if that ever happened, and you coulda helped stop it and chose not to – how'd that make you feel, I wonder?"

Jesse immediately glared. "That's hitting below the belt, dude, seriously!"

Xander shrugged yet again. "I want my best friend back. So I'm willing to fight dirty if I have to. Wouldn't you, if you were in my shoes?"

Jesse shook his head, though whether it was to clear it or to disagree with Xander's question, not even he knew. "Look, I need to think about all this. So just gimme some space, okay? For now, I just – I need to be alone. I promise I won't say anything to anyone – hey, who would even believe me? – but I gotta work through everything I've just learned in my own way, at my own speed."

He could tell Willow and Xander weren't happy with hearing that, so he quickly left the room before they could say anything else – his head still whirling, and his previous world-view hopelessly shattered into little pieces.

* * *

 **4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

 **October 9** **th** **, 1996**

"OUT OF THE QUESTION!" Mr. Chase yelled, glaring at both his wife and daughter.

"You're being somewhat unreasonable, David," Julia replied, rolling her eyes.

"Please, Daddy?" Cordelia asked hopefully, her eyes all wide and pleading. "It's a wonderful opportunity –"

"Cordelia," David interrupted her, feeling a migraine coming on. "You're fifteen going on sixteen years old. You're _**far**_ too young to be attending a fraternity party at Crestwood College! Where there will be alcohol, tobacco and maybe even drugs, or God knows what else –"

"Daddy, c'mon, I'm not that stupid!" Cordelia cut him off this time. "Look, the Zeta Kappas have to have a certain balance at their party tomorrow night, or something – Richard explained it all to me, but I was so distracted that I didn't actually hear much of what he was talking about. All I know is that I've been invited to this exclusive party – and it would be totally rude not to go! I mean, we're talking about Richard Anderson! As in Anderson Farms, Anderson Aeronautics and Anderson Cosmetics!" She said pleadingly, "Please, I _**have**_ to go! I just have to!"

"Young lady, the only thing you _**have**_ to do is listen to me and your mother. You're not eighteen yet, and while you're living under our roof, you'll follow our rules. Or I'm canceling all your credit cards," David said threateningly.

"You wouldn't!" his daughter replied, looking aghast.

"Wouldn't I?" he shot back. He really didn't need this right now, and he was pretty sure Cordelia knew it, too. Hopefully, his offspring was smart enough to have figured out that there was a time and place for everything, and throwing a tantrum while he was in this sort of black mood would be – counterproductive.

"Your father does have a point about your age, dear. Still, if your heart's really set on attending this party – maybe we could arrange a chaperone of some sort?" Julia suggested, shooting him a look. One which David didn't like at all.

"A chaperone? Seriously? Mom, why do you and Daddy _**hate**_ me?!" Cordelia suddenly exploded, glaring at him and his wife. "I mean, if my friends heard about this – can you say the words 'utter humiliation'?"

"Cordelia? You're really trying my patience right now. Do you understand the words, 'grounded until further notice'?" David shot back, a scowl appearing on his features.

Mr. Chase saw her go pale, and then he felt reluctant admiration over how well his daughter was able to adapt to changing circumstances – and be willing to lose a battle in order to win a war. He could see it in her eyes as Cordelia said, "Alright, fine. Chaperone me, I can deal as long as you don't prevent me from attending the party. Okay?"

"No, not okay. I need to discuss this some more with your mother, _**in private**_ ," David said, emphasizing the last two words. "So go to your room, and we'll send Lupe to get you once we've made our decision. Understood?"

"Yes, Daddy." David saw his daughter exchange a look with Julia before she left the study. "Bye!"

"Now, really, David –" Julia started to say a few seconds later.

" _ **Why**_ are you so keen for her to attend this party, Julia? Cordelia's just a child!" he growled at her immediately. "Plus, you know how I'm unhappy about her dating a college boy, and yet you're encouraging her? Why?"

Julia raised her eyebrows – a mannerism David knew their daughter had inherited from her – and said, "Well, _**someone**_ in this family has to point our daughter in the right direction, in terms of snagging the proper sort of husband."

David gaped at her. "Husband? Wha –"

"You look at her and still see a child, David. Trust me when I say that other men don't," Julia replied frankly, coming closer. "A woman always knows these things. Look, Cordelia will be sixteen in three months or so, therefore it's time to start exposing her to the right sort of male specimens in order for her to make a properly informed choice – in five to ten years, anyway. I'm not suggesting she seriously considers marrying that Richard Anderson boy, of course –"

"He's _**not**_ a boy," David cut her off angrily. "He's a grown man, who should be dating someone his own age! Not a high school girl who's not even sixteen yet!"

Julia smirked. "Well, what can I say? Male tastes vary, and some _**women**_ prefer older men, David. And you're being somewhat hypocritical for someone who claims to be against age discrimination, aren't you?"

{ _Calm down. Calm down. Calm down!_ } "I'm worried about our daughter. I'm worried that she's making the wrong choices too young in life," he told her icily, after nearly thirty seconds of frigid silence. "As a father, that's my job. It's supposed to be your job as well, remember?"

His wife instantly lost the amused look. "Oh? And is it my job to set up our only child with that Harris trash? The way you seem to be doing? David, don't think I haven't noticed you constantly questioning Cordelia about what that boy is up to –"

"I have my reasons for asking Cordelia about Alexander. Reasons that don't necessarily include her dating him," David interrupted. He paused, correctly figuring that he needed to change the subject before Julia started wondering just what those reasons were. "All right, fine. It goes against my better judgment to do this, but Cordelia can attend that party tomorrow night as long as she's properly chaperoned. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Julia nodded. She seemed somewhat surprised at her husband's abrupt about-face regarding the matter, but then she left the study to tell the maid to summon Cordelia back downstairs.

While she was gone, David picked up the phone and hit speed-dial. "Hello, Jessica? I need to talk to you and Tony, I have a favor to ask –"

* * *

 **The Delta Zeta Kappa fraternity of Crestwood College, Sunnydale**

 **October 10** **th** **, 1996**

{ _Damn it! This is_ _ **not**_ _the way I wanted to spend my Thursday night,_ } Xander thought to himself in annoyance, as he poked his head in through the side window of the fraternity house. He tried to climb inside, but lost his balance and fell to the floor with a loud thump. Fortunately, no one at the party seemed to pay any attention.

Well, almost no one.

"Dude! You're gonna get us noticed," Jesse hissed at him, as the guy climbed through the window as well. His best bud helped him up off the floor and said in a low tone of voice, "Can you see Cordy anywhere?"

"I'm fine, thanks for asking," he said dryly, but also with a touch of irritation. "And no, I can't."

"Darn. Well, we better spread out, try to find her. I'm gonna head in that direction," Jesse said urgently, straightening his clothes.

"You know, for someone that Mr. Chase never even asked to come along on this mission, you sure seem willing to place yourself in harm's way," Xander said in that same dry tone, running a hand through his hair. He ignored that snarky and annoying inner voice saying he probably should have refused to come here tonight; whatever illegal stuff Cordy's father was into, it was none of his business –

"It's Cordelia. I'm willing to die for her, if I have to," Jesse said fervently, looking around and failing to see the girl in question.

{ _Yeah, that's what I'm afraid of,_ } Xander thought uncomfortably, as he and his best friend parted company. { _Because in Sunnydale, that's way too high a possibility for my liking!_ }

The reason he was thinking such thoughts was that over the past month or so, Willow had – in the course of her investigations into the theory and practice of magic, and why Amy's mom had said she was less powerful anywhere other than Sunnydale – well, she'd uncovered some truly _**shocking**_ statistics about the old home town. Multiple deaths, multiple injuries and a history you wouldn't find anywhereelse in America. Maybe even the entire world.

After hacking into the Sunnydale PD's computers, Willow had reported to him and Jesse that most of the deaths had been listed in the police files as 'wild animal attacks' or 'exsanguination with a barbecue fork.' And yet, something about such descriptions – simply didn't add up.

For example, there had been nothing in the town newspaper about any wild animals being spotted, or on the loose, during the times in question; his red-haired little buddy had checked. And Xander couldn't help asking himself, what kind of weirdo killed people with a barbecue fork to the neck? There had to be easier ways to stab someone to death –

Thing was, just the other night, when he and Jesse had gone over to Willow's place... Mr. Rosenberg had laughingly mentioned that one of his patients at the psychiatric clinic had insisted that there were vampires in Sunnydale. Xander could tell Willow's dad didn't believe a word of it, but all the same – it had given him ideas that had started percolating around in his Harris-shaped brain.

{ _If magic is real, then who's to say the rest of it can't be real as well? Like zombies, werewolves, ghosts, succubi, and even vampires?_ }

Such thoughts didn't sit well inside his head, though, Xander had to admit. He could handle the concept of magic by this point – enough time had passed that it had (somewhat reluctantly) become part of his impressionable teenage world-view. But admitting to himself that the monsters of mythology were real as well?

Totally different ball game.

Putting away such thoughts, Xander kept to himself as the evening wore on, carrying out the favor Cordelia's father had requested of him and his family. He kept Queen C in sight for most of the time, occasionally losing her but usually finding her again after Jesse –

"New pledge!" a guy who looked like he played Tackle on a college football team suddenly yelled out.

"New pledge!" another guy Xander mentally dubbed Linebacker echoed, as the two of them grabbed Jesse – who'd been chatting with a couple of bored-looking girls – and began hauling him off. Both of them kept yelling, "New pledge! New pledge! New pledge!"

Xander cursed silently to himself. He had lost sight of Cordelia, thanks to the distraction, and could only watch helplessly as his best friend was shamed and degraded in public. The college boys dressed Jesse up in a skirt and bra, before Tackle grabbed Jesse's cheeks and forced him to pucker his lips before roughly applying red lipstick. To complete the look, a long blonde wig was placed on Jesse's head before Linebacker started shouting, "Start dancin', new pledge!"

"Uh, guys –" Jesse started to say.

"C'mon, pretty boy! Dance!" Tackle shouted, shoving him slightly as the party guests started to laugh and cheer. "Yeah, you heard me! Shake that ass!"

Jesse lamely started to dance as the football players laughed and jeered, goading and egging him on. His friend looked utterly miserable, trapped and unable to do anything but gyrate around as the frat boys started poking him with sticks and – was that some kind of cattle prod? Xander couldn't tell –

"Hi, I'm Tom Warner. Don't think we've met before – who are you?"

Xander whirled around to face the twenty-something young man standing behind him, before quickly averting his eyes. "Name's Xander Harris."

"Right. You know, you look a little young to be part of the college scene – are you a crasher, like that guy?" Tom nodded in Jesse's direction.

"Not exactly. Just here to make sure someone's all right during the party," Xander semi-mumbled, keeping his eyes averted.

"Really. Hmm, why do I find that rather hard to believe?" Tom's voice suddenly acquired a harsher quality. "Because I don't know about you, but I find it difficult to accept the word of someone who won't even look me in the eye. You can see where I'm going with this, can't you?"

{ _Damn. This isn't gonna end well, I can just feel it._ } Reluctantly, Xander raised his eyes to meet Tom's.

"That's better," Tom suddenly smiled at him. "So, you said you were here on some sort of protection detail? For who?"

"Cordelia. Cordelia Chase. Her dad asked me to –" Xander abruptly stopped, seeing a brief flash of – something – in Tom's eyes. "What, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Tom suddenly seemed all smiles and good will to all mankind again. "Why should anything be wrong?"

Xander opened his mouth to reply –

"You fucking asshole!" Tom hissed at him, before the guy swung a fist at his face – and Xander's world exploded into pain and darkness.

His last thought, before unconsciousness took hold, was that he should have damn well followed the rules – and simply kept his mouth shut, plus kept his eyes away from this guy.

* * *

 **Frat house basement, Crestwood College**

 **A few hours later**

Cordelia was more scared than she'd ever been in her entire life.

Earlier tonight, she'd been having a total blast – mingling with the partygoers, hanging off Richard's arm and easily ditching her so-called chaperone. The woman her parents had hired for the job had soon given up in disgust, and started talking with one of the frat boys – Cordy had seen her a bit later on, making out with the guy in question, before laughing and continuing to enjoy the party with Richard.

But then she'd started feeling woozy after gulping down what she'd been told was a non-alcoholic fruit drink, and Richard had escorted her upstairs and let her lie down on one of the beds to rest and recover. She didn't remember falling asleep, but Cordy certainly remembered waking up –

Her wrists encased in manacles, which were hanging down from the recessed ceiling of wherever the hell she was now.

She watched with increasing horror as Richard raised the sword he was holding and walked towards a kneeling Tom Warner, someone she'd briefly been introduced to earlier tonight. She noticed how Tom had a series of weird-looking symbols carved onto his naked chest, before Richard began to carve another one with his sword.

"Where are we? And who are you guys?" Cordelia whispered to the two other girls who were in chains alongside her, trying not to grimace over what Richard was doing.

"Brittany Oswald, I'm a junior at St. Michael's," the girl on her right whispered back.

"Kelly Percell, sophomore at Grant," the girl on her left said in a hushed tone.

"I think we're in some sorta basement," Brittany added in a soft murmur, as Richard finished carving Tom's new symbol. "And that we're in big trouble –"

"Bring him in," Tom ordered roughly, as he got up off his knees and two hooded guys clothed him in some sort of ugly-looking robe.

{ _Bring who in?_ } Cordy wondered to herself, before her question was answered – when two guys in robes and hoods carried the unconscious Doofus down into the chamber. "Xander?"

"You know that guy?" Kelly muttered out of the corner of her mouth.

"Yeah. Oh, God, what's going on? I wanna go home," Cordelia said, just a touch too loudly.

Richard turned around and smirked at her. "Sorry, sweet cheeks. But none of you are going home."

"Richard, please! Let me go!" Cordelia begged him.

"Let you go? Okay, let me think. Um, no!" He laughed directly in Cordy's face, "God, I love gullible high school girls. Mm!"

"You son of a bitch," she instantly cursed him, finally seeing the evil asshole underneath the charming rich boy façade.

But Richard just smirked again and walked over to Xander, slapping him across the face in order to wake him up. "Rise and shine, kid!"

Cordelia saw the Dork (who was actually wearing decent clothes for once?) slowly wake up, blinking and wincing in pain. "Wha' happen-?"

"Who else knows about Machida?" Tom demanded, as one of the hooded guys put Richard's sword in his hands.

"Who?" Harris asked, still blinking and trying to focus.

Tom nodded to Richard, who viciously backhanded him this time. Then the head psycho said, "Just in case your mind is still scrambled after I hit you in the face earlier on – your eyes turned green and you said to me, 'be careful with the offerings for your demon patron, or else the snake eyes in your life won't be because of a roll of the dice.' So I repeat, who else knows about Machida?"

{ _What the hell is he talking about?_ } Cordelia asked herself blankly, as Xander muttered 'no one' and Richard smacked the Doofus around some more. She actually winced at the strength of some of the blows, suspecting that Harris was going to be black and blue pretty soon – assuming, of course, he lived through the next few minutes amongst these loony psychos!

"Talk," Tom said, stepping forward and grabbing Xander by the hair, forcing him to engage in eye contact. "Now."

"Okay, fine. I'm a, an Oracle," Cordy heard Loser Boy admit painfully. "It's sorta my thing. I can't control it, or even remember the warnings I give out whenever my eyes turn green that way. And I have no idea what you're talking about, this whole 'Machida' thing. Satisfied? Because that's the truth, believe it or not."

Cordy certainly couldn't believe it, even as she saw Tom examining the Doof carefully for any evidence of lies or evasion. She doubted Kelly and Brittany did, either, from the looks on their faces. { _Where the hell did he come up with that? And oh, geez, I must be_ _ **really**_ _desperate if my only hope is a guy who's able to pull a whopper like that one out of his ass!_ }

Tom abruptly straightened, slightly. "Chain him up with the others," he said, still eyeing Xander carefully.

"Uh, boss? There's no room, plus no chains," one of the hooded guys responded apologetically, gesturing towards her and the other two girls. "Should we just tie him up instead?"

"Yes, do that," Tom stated absently, before gesturing to Richard. "The chaperone?"

"We dumped the body over the fence into the cemetery next door," Richard replied, which immediately made Cordelia's blood feel like ice in her veins –

Tom nodded. "Good enough." He glanced over at Cordelia and the others in disgust. "Who'd have thought finding a virgin would have caused so many hassles this year?" Then Warner shook his head, dismissing that. "Begin the ritual."

Nodding and lowering his robe's hood over his head, Richard brought out three stones which were polished and shiny. He gave them to Tom, who gave him the sword in return and then Warner said loudly, "Machida."

The hooded frat brothers intoned, "In His name."

"We who serve you, we who receive all that you bestow, call upon you in this holy hour."

"In this holy hour," the crowd echoed.

"We have no wealth, no possession... except that which you give us."

"Except that which you give us," the hooded guys intoned.

"We have no power, no place in the world... except that which you give us."

"Except that which you give us," the crowd said again.

"What's going on?" Kelly said, not bothering to whisper anymore.

"I think they're gonna kill us," Brittany replied in escalating horror.

"It's been a year since our last offering," Tom chanted, ignoring them. "A year in which our bounty overflowed. We come before you with fresh offerings."

"Offerings? Us?" Cordelia squeaked in terror.

"Do you see anyone else chained up in here?" Kelly replied numbly.

Tom kept going, "Accept our offering, Dark Lord, and bless us with your power. Machida!"

The hooded frat brothers chanted, "Machida!" as Tom tossed the stones into the well at the center of the basement, one at a time.

"What's down there?" Cordelia demanded, now officially frightened out of her mind.

"Come forth, and let your terrible countenance look upon your servants, and their humble offering. We call you, Machida!" Tom shouted.

"In His name. Machida!" the crowd of psychos chanted.

"OH MY GODDDDDDD!" Cordelia screamed, as Machida finally rose up out of the well.

The nightmarish _**thing**_ before her was some kinda half-man, half-snake monster, all green and scaly. It – he – hissed loudly, as he looked at her and the other two girls. Cordelia kept on screaming at the top of her lungs as Kelly and Brittany stared at Machida in wide-eyed horror, before fainting dead away.

"Xander, _**do something!**_ " she instinctively pleaded, turning to look at him.

"Okay, sure. What?" the Dorkhead asked dazedly, staring at the monster.

"For He shall rise from the depths, and we shall tremble before Him," Tom kept chanting. "He who is the source of all we inherit and all we possess. Machida."

"Machida," the hooded guys echoed.

"And if He is pleased with our offerings, then our fortune shall increase."

"Machida. Let our fortunes increase," the crowd chanted.

"And on the tenth day of the tenth month He shall be enhungered. And we shall feed Him," Tom finished up as Machida gazed toward her and the other girls.

"Feed him?" Cordelia whispered dumbly, as Machida spread his arms.

"Hey, Reptile Boy!" Xander suddenly called out, as all eyes focused on him. "You don't want to eat Cordy! Look at her – she's practically skin and bones. Half an hour later, you'll just be hungry again –"

"Xander, how _**dare**_ you?!" Cordelia screamed angrily, even as Tom punched Harris to shut him up.

"So take me, instead!" the Dweeb shouted, ignoring the blow, which made Cordelia gape at her frenemy in disbelief.

"Feed, Dark Lord!" Tom shouted, as the demon-snake-thing-whatever came closer. "Feast upon your virgin sacrifices!"

Machida surged forward –

– only to stop, as Cordelia saw Xander's eyes turn green and kinda sparkly – just like that time when she was with Harmony, the first day of the school year – and an inhuman, hissing noise erupted out of the Dorkhead's mouth.

Cordelia never noticed Xander's eyes go back to their normal color – she was too busy gaping as the monster quickly withdrew, vanishing back down into the well. { _What just happened?_ }

"What just happened?" Richard echoed her thought in pure disbelief, tossing back his hood.

"You. _**You**_ did this!" Tom snarled at Xander, grabbing Richard's sword and putting it to Xander's neck. "What did you say to Machida, for him to forsake our offerings?"

"Already told ya, sorry. But doesn't work like that, pal," Xander replied nervously, looking acutely panicked about the sharp steel pressed against his carotid. "Whatever I say when the Oracle spirit hijacks my ass, I can never remember it afterwards. I, uh, a witch I knew once said that that's S.O.P. for guys like me. I'm guessin' prophecy's kinda like that?"

{ _What?_ } Cordelia thought to herself torpidly, her mind starting to shut down in order to try to preserve her sanity. { _Witch? Oracle? Prophecy? Ohhhhhhhh –_ }

"Right! Everyone dig in, and let's remember to share, people!" a male voice with a British accent said from the top of the nearby stairs, before everything erupted into pure chaos.

To her horror and further disbelief, Cordelia saw _**things**_ with yellow eyes, fangs and bumpy foreheads leaping down from the stairs, and attacking the hooded bad guys. The frat brothers never stood a chance – Cordelia could tell that much, before Xander came over to stand in front of her.

"Pretend to faint! Now! Maybe they won't kill you if they think you're out cold like those other two, it wouldn't be any fun for them," Lame Boy whispered to her, and for some reason, Cordy instantly obeyed him.

"Gimme that sword, mate!" she heard the same British-accented voice from a few moments previously; and roughly ten seconds later, inhuman screaming noises came from the direction of the well.

The cacophony abruptly ceased after about half a minute, though, as the unknown English guy then said, "Ah, that felt bloody marvellous! Been waiting over fifty _**years**_ to deal with that ponce-y demon 'n all his minions. So what next, luv? Dru?"

"Hullo, Kitten," Cordelia heard a different, accented female voice say.

"Wot? _**He's**_ the effin' pussy cat you mentioned back in Marseilles, pet? And is this-?"

"Yes, Spoike. And you, the naughty girl. I can tell you're just pretending to be asleep, silly! Now open your eyes, or you'll never sing a song o' sixpence again. Quickly, now!"

She ceased playing possum and straightened up, even though it still felt like she was trapped in a terrible nightmare that would never end. And despite how Xander's body was still blocking most of her field of view, Cordelia still managed to get a peek of the hideous, deformed, inhuman-looking woman's face.

"That's better! Now, Kitten? Be a good boy 'n talk to me. What does the Dark Lady 'ave to say?" the female monster – Dru? – purred softly at Xander.

"Uh – what? Sorry, but I dunno who you're talkin' about. Or what it is you want me to say?" Harris said nervously.

"Listen, baby, hate to be a nag – but ya know how upset your great-grandad will get if we're not home soon with his supper," the British male... thing... cut in. "So let's just kill the whelp and his bird 'n be done with it, shall we?"

Cordy sucked in a terrified breath as Xander responded, "Uh, actually, you're not gonna kill us. At least, not here and not now. I have that on pretty good authority, anyway."

"Oh, really? And why's zat, then?" the male voice – Cordy had a brief flash of a bleached-blond figure of roughly medium height, wearing an unfashionable-looking leather duster – asked in amusement.

"Because I've been told I either die alone in Africa in a bit less than ten years' time, or together with Cordelia – eight and a half decades from now," the Doofus replied, making her wince as she recalled what Madam Devora had said all those months ago. Nonetheless, just for once – Cordy truly hoped that that so-called psychic was _**not**_ a fake –

"Yeah? And all that's gonna stop me from rippin' yer throat out, how exactly?" the bad guy asked Xander, amusement still dripping in in his tone.

"Ahhh..." the 'Dru' thing spoke up, with an odd tone of voice. "Oh, oh, Spoike – the naughty girl's bad daddy, and his pack – they're almost here... nair nur, nair nur, nair nur!"

She – it – the woman-thing was obviously a _**total**_ loon. And the guy – Spoike? Spike? – cursed briefly. "The coppers are comin' here, now? Well, that's just wunnerful – all right, lads, everyone out! Right now!"

Cordelia could only watch in sheer incredulity as the monsters – there was simply no other word that fit in her mind – all stopped whatever they were doing, and raced up the stone stairway. Two of them dragged a couple of the hooded frat boys along with them. Spoike and Dru were the last to leave, as the female monster waved and called out, "Until next time, Kitten!"

"Are you okay?" Cordelia heard the Dumbass ask her in concern, and she nodded silently as she watched him awkwardly pick up Richard's sword and hold it roughly perpendicular to the floor, in order to saw through the ropes binding his hands.

Once she noticed all the dead bodies on the floor, though, Cordelia decided to follow Kelly and Brittany's excellent example – and she unceremoniously fainted.

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Nothing much to say other than thanks to everyone who's been reading and reviewing the story, and sending me feedback. Hope you all managed to get through to the end okay!


	8. Aftermaths

**Chapter Eight: Aftermaths**

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **October 11** **th** **, 1996**

* * *

Not long after the midnight hour, the Master stared at William the Bloody in silent contemplation.

The younger vampire was something of an enigma – the Master was willing to admit that to himself. The slayer of two Slayers, he and Drusilla shared an odd bond – one that went far beyond the usual sire-childe relationship. In fact, the sheer loyalty and affection which William displayed towards his maker was something the Master hadn't seen in centuries – not since the Roman vampire called Aurelius.

Hrrm. That fool had actually thought the Master loved him? In the end, dusting that vampire and taking over his Order had been an act of mercy, now that he thought about it –

The Master ceased his wool-gathering and focused on the William the Bloody. "So. It seems there was some excitement earlier this evening?"

"Yeah, finally managed to put right an old gripe from back durin' the war. So I, uh, offer penance," the bleached-blond said contritely, even if the act didn't fool the Master one iota.

"Why?" the ancient vampire curled his lip slightly.

William shrugged slightly. "Seemed like the right thing to say. 'N that's what you asked for last time, idnit? Reckoned you'd be consistent, at least."

"Spike, I'm warning you!" Darla snarled at once. "You _**will**_ show proper respect and deference for our Master, or I will personally –"

"Now, now," Drusilla cut in, smiling in a way that the Master knew indicated true lunacy. "The higher powers will be ever so upset if you 'urt my dear Spoike, Grandmother."

"I've been telling you for over a hundred years, stop calling me that," Darla growled at her, much to the Master's amusement. "And what higher powers? What are you talking about, you mad little witch?"

"Don't ever call her that again," William growled, taking a step towards her.

"William. Do you _**really**_ think you can best Darla in a fair fight?" the Master interjected, feeling... entertained. "If so, then you have my permission to engage in a duel to the death –"

"NOOOOOO!" Drusilla unexpectedly screamed, as everyone turned their attention to her. She yelled loudly, "No, no, NO! The stars and the moon scream such terrible, 'orrible things, things that'll wreck our 'appy home! Spoike, tell Grandmother you're sorry!"

"I should apologize to _**her?!**_ " William seemed utterly flabbergasted by that. "Cor blimey, luv, Darla was the one who insulted you in the first place!"

"Ohh, yes..." Drusilla started swaying back and forth, abruptly calming down and holding her head in her hands. "Poor Grandmother, for Daddy now loves another. Foolish girl standing tall, who loves to go shopping at the mall..."

"What?" Darla growled, her human mask dissolving to show her true demonic face. "Who are you talking about? Who is it that's taken Angelus from me, Drusilla? Tell me! NOW!"

"This is not the Queen's birthday, and Miss Edith says one should not cut off one's nose in order to spite one's face," Dru replied primly, sounding just like the nineteenth century Englishwoman she had once been.

"Why, you-!"

"Darla." The Master was pleased to see that she still retained enough presence of mind to instantly stop in her tracks upon hearing his voice. "We seem to have wandered off the point, quite a bit."

"Yes, Master." Darla bowed her head submissively and returned to her place in his court. "Like William, I, too, offer penance for my actions."

"Then go patrol the sewers tonight in his place, and return to me by tomorrow's eve – and I will consider the matter closed," the Master said, gesturing dismissively.

{ _Not that_ _ **she**_ _will, of course,_ } the Master thought to himself in hidden delight, not failing to miss the look of near-hatred Darla shot William as she left the underground cavern. { _Ah, children nowadays – so predictable. Apart from Drusilla, of course._ }

"Now, then, child. What should I do about you?" the Master asked Drusilla, his demonic red-gold eyes gleaming despite the dim illumination of the candles.

"Whatever it is – do it ta me, instead!" William insisted immediately, stepping in front of her.

"Oh, I already have plans in mind for you, William. Granted, I do love a good slaughter as much as the next vampire, so I'm not wholly displeased by your actions earlier tonight. All my children need to learn, as well; and there's nothing quite like learning from example. Nonetheless, your hot-headed independence – well. I fear you still haven't learned the most important lesson of all – namely, who is the master and who is the servant around here. Take him!"

The Master smiled in sadistic pleasure as a furious and struggling William the Bloody was fastened securely to the floor, and his minions subsequently took turns splashing him with holy water. The young upstart's screams of pain was pure music to his ears, when –

"Something is different now, here, on the Hellmouth. I can _**feel**_ it. And whatever else it may be – I strongly suspect it is our enemy..."

The Master was more than a little astonished, as he turned to face Drusilla – who had just spoken the same words he'd uttered upon emerging from his pool of blood, all those months ago. The truth was, it was a source of some frustration for him that no one had ever been able to find out what that 'something' was –

Until now, perhaps.

"Come closer, my child, and speak with me about that. And one of you, release William from his bondage," the Master absently ordered his followers, whilst beckoning Drusilla to come forward.

* * *

 **The Bronze, Sunnydale**

 **Approximately nineteen hours later**

"CORDELIA KNOWS?!" Willow yelped in alarm, sitting at a table within the teen club – along with Jesse, and a battered-looking Xander.

She was, of course, acutely aware that Alexander LaVelle Harris was now the subject of some public interest. Neither he nor Cordelia had showed up for school today, but Jesse had – and she had learned what had happened at Crestwood College last night. It had become a front page story that had been printed in the _Sunnydale Press_ town newspaper, as well.

Thus, practically everyone knew that Cordelia and two other girls had almost been murdered in the basement of the Delta Zeta Kappa frat house – and that Xander had saved their lives, before Jesse had led the cops and Cordelia's father into the building in order to rescue the captives.

"Yeah, guess so," Xander replied to her question. "I mean, Cordy saw and heard everything last night, before she finally fainted. Y'know, after all those killer frat boys were murdered. And don't believe what you mighta read in the paper today, Will – that was no 'gang high on PCP' who showed up looking to 'settle a score' with those guys. No way in hell!" Xander shook his head slowly, wincing in pain.

"What do ya mean? Uh, if they weren't some kinda gang members, then what were they?" Jesse demanded, looking confused.

"Well, they had yellow eyes and fangs, not to mention this weird bumpy forehead deal going. They attacked everyone in sight, and afterwards? Their victims had two holes in their necks, and there was blood splattered everywhere. So – you tell me what they were, bud," Xander shrugged slightly.

Willow's eyes went wide. "Wha – Xander, you, you can't seriously be telling us that they were _**vampires**_ , can you? Because that's just – well, it's completely ridiculous!"

"You can do magic, and I make mystical pronouncements – which I can't even remember – whenever my eyes decide to change color, Will. _**Really**_ don't think either of us have much wiggle room on the whole disbelief thing," Xander replied, slowly shaking his head again.

Willow felt her cheeks go red with embarrassment. "Well, yeah, but –"

"There was some kinda demon there last night as well, I saw it. So did Cordelia. And those other two girls, who fainted straightaway," Xander interrupted, not looking at either of his friends. "Apparently, I went all green-eyed and said something to it in its own language, which made Reptile Boy back off and disappear back down where it came from. Otherwise, I wouldn't be here right now – and Cordy's parents would be mourning their dead daughter. The parents of those other two girls, likewise."

"Wow," Jesse breathed in sheer admiration. "Dude, you are officially my hero! Well, as long as you continue to use your powers for good instead of evil!"

Willow impatiently brushed that aside. "So, what else happened last night? I mean, with regards to these, these –"

"Vampires," Xander said it for her, when it became obvious that she couldn't force herself to say the word. "There were two of them who spoke to me, Will. One of them, the guy – his name was 'Spike.' The other one, he called her 'Dru.' She said –"

"What?" Willow and Jesse asked together, after Xander suddenly stopped.

"She called me her 'kitten.' And she asked to hear what the 'Dark Lady' had to say, whatever the hell that meant," Xander confessed, looking troubled. "And I guess we were wrong about the 'mad Seer' being a guy way back when – 'cause that loony vamp chick, she _**knew**_ the cops were coming long before they actually showed up. That's why me, Cordy and those other girls were all alone down there when reinforcements finally showed up."

Willow felt horrified, and Jesse looked confused, but before either of them could say anything Cordelia pushed her way through the crowd and said to Xander, "Meet me outside in the alley in five minutes." She then quickly merged back into horde of Bronze patrons, before anyone at the table had a chance to reply.

"Wow. She didn't even look at us, Will. No insults, nothing! Cordy must be totally freaking," Jesse commented, shaking his head.

"Yeah, she probably is. Last night was totally freaksome, after all," Xander shrugged. "Okay, I'm gonna hit the Little Xander's room, then head outside to talk to her. You guys wanna come along for the upcoming chit-chat?"

"Sure," Willow nodded, before glancing at Jesse.

"Yeah, I'm in," he nodded as well.

* * *

 **Deserted alley to the rear of the Bronze, Sunnydale**

 **Five minutes later**

Cordelia waited impatiently for Xander to show up for their little rendezvous. She had a lot she wanted to discuss with him, after all.

She didn't remember all that much about last night – she had the funniest feeling that she didn't _**want**_ to remember everything that had happened, after waking up in the frat house's basement – but still, she knew that she owed Harris big-time for what he'd done. Because according to what Daddy had told her, the Sunnydale PD had found the bones of missing girls in that huge well within the frat house basement. And older bones, some of which looked like they'd been there for decades –

Her own bones could oh-so-easily have been added to the collection, if the Dweeb hadn't been there for her when she'd needed him!

Just before she'd snuck out of the house tonight (and boy, were her parents gonna be _**pissed**_ after they found the note she'd left in her bedroom!) she'd heard Daddy talking to someone on the phone. And even though she could only hear her father's side of the conversation, she'd nonetheless learned that certain corporations whose chairmen and founders were former Delta Zeta Kappas were now suffering from unexplained falling profits, IRS investigations – and even a couple of icky suicides in the boardroom.

Probably not all that surprising, though – not if those guys were gonna be charged with murder-one and spend the rest of their lives in prison, making _**special**_ friends with Bubba the weightlifter!

{ _Finally!_ } Cordy thought to herself after spying Xander come out of the Bronze, taking her hand out of her purse – where it had been clutching a can of extra-strength mace. { _All right, now we can – oh, no! What are those two doing here?_ }

"What are you two doing here?" Cordelia demanded of Willow and Jesse, as they followed Xander out into the street.

"Xander invited us along," Nerd Girl replied simply, staring at her.

"Uh, Cordy, are you feeling all right?" Stalker Boy said, coming forward. "I mean, if you need a shoulder to lean on or anything –"

"Even if I did, it wouldn't be yours," Cordelia told the moron in her typical blunt fashion. "Look, don't get me wrong – I'm grateful for whatever part you played in last night's little drama, while I was trapped in the Frat House of Demented Psychos. But don't think that that gratitude means that I'm even the _**tiniest**_ bit interested in you, McNally! Because I'm not. Never have been, and never will be, either! So why don't you and Willow just take a hike? 'Cause my private conversation with the Doofus you call your best friend is just that – private!"

"Cordelia, have you ever even remotely heard of the word 'tact'?" Willow shook her head in disbelief, while Jesse looked like Cordelia had just shot his pet dog right in front of him.

"Tact is just coddling the weak. I'll pass – it saves everyone a lot of time," she replied imperiously. "And by the way – even though I've told my friends to leave you alone, I'm pretty sure Harmony's planning something with Gwen, and possibly even Joy. I'll be interested to see how you retaliate, if they manage to pull off whatever they've got in mind for you."

"I'm thinking pink and purple hair. For starters," the redhead replied, looking her directly in the eye.

"Not a bad choice of opening salvo, yeah. Wouldn't do their reputations any good if they all ended up with a case of crabs, either," Cordelia shrugged, not missing the incredulous look which the Doofus was sending her.

"But I, I, I thought they were your friends?" McNally gaped at her like a fish out of water.

"Newsflash, Dummy! My _**friends**_ all know not to go behind my back once I tell them what to do, or what not to do! My entire social circle knows that Willow's off-limits nowadays, and that anyone who attacks her is strictly on their own. So if Harmony and the others disobey my orders, then they deserve whatever she does to their asses in revenge! Comprendez?" she barked at him.

"Myself, not really. But then I'm a guy, and I honestly don't understand women," Xander shrugged.

"Yeah, well, here's a freebie for you, Dimwit – we women understand one another, and that's why most of us totally hate each other," Cordelia replied testily, before she focused her gaze back on his friends. "Is there a reason why you two are still here?"

"Yeah. Just wanted to remind you, don't hurt Xander. Or our little truce is over," Willow said warningly, before she grabbed the other loser she hung out with and started dragging him towards the front entrance of the Bronze.

"Hey, Willow? Freebie for you too – you might wanna look into cutting your hair, and updating your wardrobe. 'Cause the Sears look is so over, and it might prevent Harmony from recruiting the others against you – _ **if**_ you can prove that you've actually got a bit of fashion sense," Cordelia told her frankly.

"I'll think about it," Willow replied, before she and McNally vanished around the corner of the alley.

"Wow. Cordelia Chase, actually willing to lend a hand to those she considers losers and geeks? That can't be right," the Dorkhead's voice quickly attracted her attention. "You sure you're feeling okay?"

"I'm fine. And what's wrong with occasionally helping my fellow man? Even if they _**are**_ members of the school's unofficial leper colony," Cordelia replied, without missing a beat. "Seriously, those overalls and fuzzy pink sweaters Willow wears? So _**not**_ an acceptable outfit for any girl who doesn't want to be bullied, and constantly harassed!"

"Well, I'll bow before your superior knowledge regarding women's fashions. After all, the only thing I've ever seen _**you**_ wear twice is a nasty expression."

"Says the perennial fashion victim of Sunnydale High. And after seeing what you wore at the party last night? You _**could**_ try wearing clothes that don't stop traffic more often, Dumbass!"

"So could you. But that'd mean everyone would think you're not trying to become the school bike any longer," Harris asked with a deceptively straight face.

"Oooh!" Cordelia instantly glared at him, volcanic fire in her eyes. "Dammit, Xander! I asked you to come out here because I wanted to, to _**thank**_ you for saving my life last night – and yet straightaway, we start hurling insults and abuse at one another? What is _**wrong**_ with you?!"

"Me? What makes you think _**I'm**_ the one with the problem, and not you?" he asked, coming closer and actually willing to look her in the eye. "No, never mind. Cordy – how much do you remember about last night?"

"What do you mean?" Cordy inadvertently took a step back.

"Before you fainted like those other girls – Kelly and Brittany – what do you remember happening down in that basement?" Harris asked, still looking directly at her. She tried to ignore the barfy feeling in her stomach as he added, "Like, do the names 'Spike' and 'Dru' mean anything to you?"

Cordelia immediately backed off even further. "What? No, I – I don't remember anyone named that. Either of those names," she said hastily. A bit too hastily, to her conscious surprise –

"Then you tell me, what happened last night?"

"I –" She paused. "I remember waking up trapped in those manacles. Then after you were brought in, Richard started smacking you around – and I _**really**_ hope he's burning in Hell right now after he lied to me and tricked me, that evil asswipe! – and then that, that cult or whatever they were, they started chanting a name over and over again, I don't remember what it was exactly –"

"Machida."

"Yeah, right, that was it! Then Tom, Richard's friend, he started waving a sword around – and then their pet snake or whatever it was emerged from that yucky-looking pit, hissing all over the place. And then you –" She paused. "I think I saw your eyes turn green, and you were hissing back at it at some point? Musta been a trick of the light, or else I was so terrified I actually started hallucinating stuff. Anyway, then the snake went away, and that street gang high on PCP swooped in and started killing people. You stood in front of me, shielding me with your body and telling me to pretend I was unconscious. Then when two of the gang members were planning to kill me, you told them it was never gonna happen – and that's when I fainted, right?"

"More or less, yeah," Harris replied, and Cordelia was stunned to hear the disappointment in his voice. She had _**no**_ idea what had caused it, when he abruptly ceased to look at her directly anymore. "Well, if that's all, then I'd better get back to Will and Jesse –"

"Hey! No, that's _**not**_ all! What are you – you were actually willing to die for me, telling those frat boys to kill you instead of me! I was willing to risk Daddy grounding me for _ever_ in order to come find you tonight, and now you're giving me the brush-off? Mister, _**no one**_ does that to Cordelia Chase!" she exclaimed heatedly.

"Right. And you haven't really changed after what happened last night, have you? Guess it was kinda dumb of me to hope otherwise," Xander said, partly to her and partly to himself – Cordelia could tell.

She tried to ignore the sudden pang in her heart as he added in that annoyingly disappointed tone of voice, "And no brush-off intended, Cor – it's just that I have some things to do now. Guess you do, too, come to think of it. Heh, kinda funny – I told your dad a while back that we lived in two totally different worlds nowadays, and that was why we weren't friends anymore. Never realized just how true that statement was until right now."

"What the _**hell**_ are you talking about?!"

"Nothing important as far as you're concerned, Cordy. Look, you, uh, you go home and apologize to your mom and dad for sneaking outta the house. Enjoy the weekend, rest and recover and all that, and I'll see you at school on Monday. Well, maybe." He then turned around and left, heading for the front entrance of the club.

"What? _**Hey!**_ Come back here, you-you – matzo balls for brains!" Cordelia yelled, feeling enraged and not really understanding why. But Harris simply kept going, vanishing around the corner of the alley just like the red-haired tweako and the dark-haired geekazoid had done earlier.

{ _Auggh! Infuriating, exasperating,_ _ **annoying**_ _male!_ } she thought to herself, now almost seething with fury – and still not really knowing why.

* * *

 **Outside the Hemery High School Gymnasium, Los Angeles**

 **November 22** **nd** **, 1996**

So much had changed since the night she and Merrick had encountered the Loa, Buffy hardly even knew where to begin in mentally cataloguing everything that had happened.

Well, for starters, her Watcher was now dead.

{ _Wish that giant hamburger statue had given us some kinda warning about that, other than Merrick would never get to meet that – that green-eyed Oracle, whoever he is,_ } Buffy thought to herself bitterly, leaving the burning gymnasium behind her. { _But then if wishes were worth anything, Merrick would never have needed to commit suicide that night._ }

That very loud gunshot echoing throughout the abandoned fairgrounds still haunted her, whenever Buffy let herself think of what extremes Merrick had gone to – in order to prevent himself from being turned, and becoming the undead minion of some so-called Vampire King.

Lothos.

That undead _**horse's ass**_ had set up shop in L.A. roughly three weeks ago, and he had arrived here tonight in magnum force, disrupting the Winter Formal dance. Luckily, she had been present and managed to take out most of the undead before too many students and teachers had been killed.

Sacred duty and all that.

Not that Buffy had attended the dance with her ex-boyfriend, Jeff – just like Merrick had always wanted, they were now history thanks to everything that had happened over the past five months. Nor had she mingled with any of the former Buffettes, who had ruthlessly ejected her from the ranks of the popular girls thanks to the sacrifices required for her 'night job.'

In fact, the only person Buffy hung out with any longer was the guy who had recently saved her life from Lothos's minion named Amilyn – Oliver Pike.

"Hey," Pike said absently, checking out his motorcycle before straightening up and looking at the Slayer. "All done?"

"Lothos is dust, and the rest of 'em, ditto," Buffy shrugged, gesturing at the burning gym. "Or they soon will be, anyway. Guess that's the final portent out of the way, huh?"

Pike looked at her quizzically. "Meaning?"

"Oh! Sorry, guess I forgot to tell you about that..." The Chosen One quickly filled Pike in on what the Loa had told her and Merrick that night. "So, now, just gotta wait for that whole 'dale of the sun' thing to take place. Not sure when that'll happen, though."

Pike shrugged. "No more vamps in the world? Sounds copacetic to me. Still – witnesses," he said simply, gesturing to the people who were talking amongst themselves and pointing in their direction. Survivors of the Winter Formal, some of whom Buffy recognized and would no doubt recognize her.

"Guess that means I can't go home right now. Huh," Buffy exhaled. { _No – like Madam Devora said, don't give in to despair. I_ _ **won**_ _tonight, and that's the important thing!_ } "Any suggestions?"

Pike smiled. "Hop on, Buffy. 'Cause I'm heading for Vegas."

Buffy smiled back at him. "Cool! Never been there myself."

"Yeah? Then Sin City, here we come..." Pike kick-started his motorcycle as the Slayer climbed on behind him. He let out the accelerator and with a loud roar, they sped off into the night.

Buffy never saw Angel staring at her longingly, before the ensouled vampire walked away from the burning high school gymnasium. He eventually reached safety just before the sun came out – and a brand new day began.

TBC...

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks as always to everyone who's been reading and reviewing the story and sending feedback, it really is appreciated. And a big thank you to my beta readers, of course!


	9. Unpleasant Realizations

**Chapter Nine: Unpleasant Realizations**

 **Skipton Castle, North Yorkshire**

 **November 23** **rd** **, 1996**

* * *

Far away from Sunnydale, nestled within the hills located between Scotland and England, the town of Skipton was almost hidden from the rest of the world. And originally built by Robert de Romille, a Norman baron circa 1090, Skipton Castle stood guard over the town – like a brooding sentry during times long past.

Once used to repel attacks from bordering Scotland – long before the union of 1603, of course – the castle was now a tourist attraction. A place where almost all of the castle's rooms were available for public viewing.

Almost all – but not quite.

Beneath the ground floor of the castle, there existed a number of hidden rooms and passageways. And contrary to what one might have expected, such places were still in use – as Skipton Castle had long been and still remained an important meeting place for the Watchers Council of Great Britain.

"This meeting will now come to order," Quentin Travers intoned, as he glanced at his two companions – the senior Watchers named Roger Wyndam-Pryce (father of Wesley), and Nelson Giles (father of Rupert). Already seated at the circular table, Quentin tapped the spherical gavel against the wooden block resting on the table's surface. "Please take your seats."

Travers noted (with some hidden displeasure) that both Giles and Wyndam-Pryce chose to sit as far away from each other as possible, without giving overt offence. { _Good Lord, it's bad enough that the forces of darkness constantly seek to end the world and kill every human being on the face of the planet – can't those two_ _ **possibly**_ _get over their misplaced enmity for one another? Focus on the big picture, so to speak?_ }

It was unlikely, Quentin knew that. Both men were the unofficial heads of their factions – the Traditionalists and the Progressives, while Travers himself was the deputy head of the ruling Conservative faction. And it was common knowledge that Nelson and Roger had views and policies that were diametrically opposed to one another's. Unfortunately, both of them were very effective at what they did, and so neither could simply be gotten rid of without... complications.

Travers banished such thoughts and said to his colleagues, "Well, we all know why we're here, gentlemen. Shall we proceed?"

"Yes," Roger nodded once.

"Very well," Nelson added at practically the same time.

Quentin ignored the nasty looks both his companions sent to one another. "Then it is my duty to officially inform you that Merrick Jamison-Smythe, Watcher to the Slayer Buffy Anne Summers, is in fact dead. Our surveillance team in Los Angeles has finally confirmed this – apparently the Chosen One buried him in a public cemetery, after he died in the line of duty."

"The man deserves better than that," Nelson said simply.

"I agree. Jamison-Smythe was hardly my favorite colleague, but still, he was one of us – and his final resting place should not be some, some anonymous colonial graveyard," Roger nodded.

"You'll find no argument from me on that. That's why arrangements are being made to disinter the body and have it brought home. And before either of you says anything derogatory about Merrick's Slayer for her role in all this, I should inform you that the girl did not actually know to contact us about the matter. Apparently, her Watcher told her next to nothing about the organization: in fact, Merrick didn't even provide her with a telephone number –"

"Why am I not surprised," Roger interrupted with a sour expression on his face. "It sounds as if Jamison-Smythe must have gone native over the past year or so! Living amongst the colonials must have made him sloppy, if he didn't even –"

"For God's sake, man, show some respect for the dead," Nelson interrupted, a disgusted look appearing on his face.

"Indeed. Merrick died a hero, Roger. I don't have all the details yet, of course, but apparently he sacrificed himself in order to save his Slayer from a master-level vampire. Hardly the actions of someone who had gone 'native', as it were," Travers interjected smoothly.

Roger colored slightly, but then inclined his head. "Indeed. I withdraw my previous remarks, in that case."

"So be it," Quentin nodded. "Now, onto more germane business. According to the latest updates, the Slayer has encountered problems without her Watcher's guidance –"

"What sort of problems?" both Roger and Nelson said at the same time, leaning forward – before sending identical glares at one another _**again**_.

Travers sighed. "I assume you both know that the current Chosen One is an American high school student? During a recent social function at that so-called institute of learning, the vampire who killed Merrick – Lothos, I believe was his name – attacked en masse with his minions. Miss Summers was fortunately able to destroy him and the other undead. But apparently she had to resort to, ah, rather drastic measures to accomplish that."

"What do you mean?" Roger asked at once.

"She burned down the gymnasium where the dance was being held, and then fled the scene on a motorcycle, according to the witness testimony given to the local police," Travers sighed.

"Humph. The girl sounds resourceful, if nothing else," Nelson shrugged slightly.

"Yes, but it puts us in a somewhat difficult position, doesn't it?" Wyndam-Pryce asked, stroking his beard slightly.

"Unfortunately, yes. Oh, doubtless the investigation by the LAPD into the Chosen One's actions can be dealt with in due course, but the girl will almost certainly be expelled – and most likely, both she and her parents will have to relocate elsewhere, in order to find some other school willing to take her. Well, once they find out Miss Summers has fled the city, at any rate," Quentin said nonchalantly.

"This is all interesting, of course, but not really relevant to us – by which I mean, the Council," Nelson spoke up. "The three of us are here to select a successor for Jamison-Smythe, are we not?"

"Indeed," Travers nodded, leaning back in his chair slightly. "And I take it both of you are ready to give me your nominations for the post?"

"Indeed. I nominate my son, Wesley," Roger said formally.

"And I nominate my son, Rupert," Nelson replied, equally formally.

"I see. Well, both could be considered adequate for the job, I suppose," Travers said noncommittally.

"ADEQUATE?!" both fathers roared in unison, before turning to glare at one another – in what was fast becoming a sad routine, all things considered.

"Yes. Both have their strengths and weaknesses, after all," Quentin nodded.

"Do, by all means, expand upon and clarify that statement," Roger all but sneered at the Deputy Head of the Council.

"As you wish," Travers nodded. "Wesley is one of the smartest graduates the Academy has ever produced – but nonetheless, he is still less than experienced with regard to field operations. Including being the Watcher to the Slayer. As for Rupert, he has far more real world experience, as it were – but his background is nonetheless... spotty, at best."

"If you're referring to that incident with the demon Eyghon and the death of his friend Randall, just say so," Giles said starkly. "We all know Rupert has been working undercover at the British Museum since he came to his senses about that sort of thing – and I can assure you, the past two decades have cured him of the follies of his youth."

"Really," Wyndam-Pryce said, making it sound more like a question than a statement.

"Yes, really," Nelson nodded rigidly.

"It's true enough – Rupert's grandmother has assured me of that, and we all know how her integrity is unquestionable," Travers said sharply. "Don't we?"

"Of course," Nelson nodded, he had nothing but the highest respect for his mother – as a Watcher, and as a parent.

"Indeed," Roger added, a moment later. Even if he looked rather – reluctant – to say that.

"Then let us proceed," Quentin waved a hand. "Both of you, make your case for your nominations."

The next half-hour or so took place far too slowly for Quentin's liking. First Roger, then Nelson presented their arguments for why their candidate should be chosen as the successor to Merrick. But after Travers opened the floor to questions from both men, the conversation quickly degenerated to veiled insults and innuendo –

"ENOUGH!" Quentin finally shouted, banging the spherical gavel once more. "You two are _**supposed**_ to set an example for our junior colleagues, dammit all, not act like a pair of rowdy schoolboys! Your behavior here today has been nothing short of _**disgraceful**_ , the both of you!"

"I offer my apologies, Quentin," Nelson said at once, inclining his head slightly.

"And I, mine," Roger did likewise.

Travers sighed, and not for the first time today. "Very well, then let us put it to the vote. In the interests of saving time, can I assume that both of you are going to be voting for your own sons, and I am to be the deciding choice in this matter?"

"Of course," Giles and Wyndam-Pryce said in unison.

"In that case – under the circumstances, Wesley Wyndam-Pryce is now the new Watcher for the Slayer," Quentin pronounced formally.

Immediately, Roger smirked at Nelson, who just glared back at him. Then Giles the elder asked Quentin, "May I ask what circumstances you refer to, exactly?"

"You may. But you must take the Oath of Loyalty before I reveal that information to you. Both of you," Quentin said firmly. "Otherwise, you will accept my decision as is."

Travers could see that both his coworkers looked rather startled. Hardly surprising, though; the Oath of Loyalty was an ancient protection spell, something used only when the greatest of secrecy was needed. That was because the Oath forced the knowledge that was given at the time of the ritual to be shared only with other Watchers in the know, and if necessary, the Slayer.

Should the Oath-taker attempt to give the information to someone other than that – under duress, or of their own volition – then the Oath would immediately cause that Watcher's blood to boil, and their heart to explode. Or, at least, that was what the books _**said**_ would happen.

To the best of Quentin's knowledge, no one had ever been unfortunate – or foolish – enough to ever put the restrictions of the Oath to the ultimate test.

"Very well," Nelson conceded, and undertook the Oath as quickly as possible. Not surprisingly, Roger immediately followed suit – Travers suspected he did so not for any great desire to know the reasons behind the decision to choose his son as the Watcher to the Slayer, but not to be outdone by his rival.

Giles then said, "So, Quentin, tell us – what are these circumstances you refer to?"

Travers reached into his pocket, and pulled out an ordinary-looking piece of paper. He placed it on the table and said, "This was recovered from amongst Merrick's personal effects. Read it – both of you. And before you ask, both Dame Agatha Harkness and the head of the Devon Coven of Witches have confirmed its validity. What Merrick recorded on that paper back in August – something he didn't include in his official Watcher Diary, for whatever reason – is the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth."

Looking intrigued, Nelson and Roger scooted closer together – their distaste for doing so patently obvious to Quentin, but something to be ignored rather than commented about – and both men began to read. A few seconds later, both Watchers looked utterly astonished.

"Intriguing, isn't it? The concept that within six months from now, we may – just possibly – finally achieve the ultimate purpose of the Watchers Council. Namely, eliminate every single vampire present in this world," Travers smiled slightly, as he contemplated the Loa's prophetic words.

"Yes, very – intriguing," Nelson said shakily, before pulling himself together. "But I still don't understand how this relates to your choosing Pryce's son instead of my own, as Jamison-Smythe's replacement."

"Ah, well. Roger? Have _**you**_ figured it out?" Quentin asked, not answering Nelson's question.

"My boy is obviously the better man for the job," Wyndam-Pryce said, albeit too vaguely to be convincing.

"With his lack of experience?" Giles demanded, before turning back to Travers. "Well?"

Quentin sighed. "Have either of you actually bothered to read Merrick's Diary? I have. Reading between the lines, it's painfully obvious how Miss Summers completely rejected his authority over her. Merrick described in detail how his Slayer was wilful, stubborn, and entertained ludicrous ideas of denying her Calling in order to have a so-called 'normal life.' When she had to obey his orders, she did so resentfully and with ill grace – because she doesn't _**want**_ to be the Chosen One, gentlemen. And although Merrick did not actually state it in his Diary, I've come to the conclusion that the Slayer blamed _**him**_ for her lot in life – for lack of anything or anyone else."

Travers sent an assessing look at Giles. "You son is far too close in age to her previous Watcher for us to risk the same thing happening all over again, not with the possibility that the Slayer and this unknown Oracle – whoever he may be – will finally end the threat of the undead, once and for all. Roger's son is, what, thirty years old –"

"Twenty-eight, actually," Wyndam-Pryce interrupted.

"So much the better," Travers nodded. "Wesley will follow the rules, but will not be the traditional authority figure Miss Summers will automatically rebel against. Otherwise, Rupert would have been chosen for the post, as his qualifications – despite his unsavory background – are clearly the superior. I trust this clarifies my reasons to you sufficiently?"

"Yes," Giles senior nodded, even if he looked _**completely**_ brassed off.

"Very well," Travers noted, as both Nelson and Roger stood up from their seats. He banged the spherical gavel down on the wooden block one last time. "This meeting is hereby officially ended."

* * *

 **1013 Hoffman Terrace, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

Willow had a smile of pure delight on her face as she said to Jesse and Xander, "Okay, watch this!"

Both boys stared at her rather oddly, but Willow paid no attention to that. Her confidence and self-esteem had grown amazingly high since the start of the school year – especially after Harmony and Gwen had been utterly humiliated in public, after attempting to play a cruel prank on her. One involving red paint, and a scene straight out of the horror movie called _Carrie_ –

But she wasn't interested in all that right now, or how she had gotten her revenge on those two airheads. She had to concentrate –

"WHOA!" Jesse abruptly exclaimed. Everyone present could see the pencil on the coffee table rise up into the air, and start rotating end over end. "That's, that's –"

"Scary," Xander cut in, as Willow failed to maintain her concentration and the pencil instantly fell back down onto the table. "Scary as hell, if you ask me."

"Oh, come _**on**_ , Xander!" Willow immediately felt completely exasperated with her hopeless crush. "I already told you, there's nothing to worry about –"

"And I already told _**you**_ , that's what Amy's mother thought when she was your age!" Xander roared, brutally cutting her off. "Tell me something, Will – how much longer do you think it'll be before you end up just like her? 'Cause where I'm standing, you're heading straight for the same cliff Mrs. Madison did – and I'm not looking forward to what happens afterwards, either! I mean, switching bodies with your future daughter, like she was gonna do? Somehow, can't help thinking it's gonna be a _**lot**_ worse than that!"

Willow tried to keep her temper in check, but she didn't succeed very well. " _ **Why**_ are you being such a poopy-head about this, Xander? Why can't you simply trust me to know what I'm doing?!"

"Because I'm scared as hell that you're gonna _**die**_ , or go evil, or whatever – just like Mrs. M did!" Xander shouted, which quickly took the wind out of her sails. "Plus, I know you, Willow. You're so used to being ahead of the rest of the class at school, the odds are you're gonna rush into stuff that you're simply not ready for!"

"Uh, well, Xander might have a point there. A-about you being way ahead of the rest of us where the book learning's concerned," Jesse said hesitantly.

He shrugged off the betrayed look she sent him. "And as for the rest – I figure it's kinda like learning martial arts, ya know? Like, you don't automatically become a Grand Master within a few short months, your sensei – someone who's a lot older and wiser than you – he tells ya that straightaway. You hafta learn what to do, and what not to do – 'cause knowledge doesn't equal wisdom. I mean... who's your sensei when it comes to the mojo, Will? Who's looking over your shoulder to tell you that even though you could do something, you _**shouldn't?**_ "

"Et tu, Jesse?" Willow snapped angrily: she simply couldn't help it.

"Oh, for cryin' out loud, Willow – how the hell can you _ **not**_ be worried about the possible consequences?" Xander demanded angrily. "I mean, hey – floating a wooden pencil, that's impressive. Useful, even, if there's a vampire around. But what's next? Floating a person? Floating a car? What if someone gets hurt or killed while you're doing that? Look me in the eye, and tell me you considered that possible scenario," he challenged her.

"I wouldn't do something like that, until I was sure I was ready for it," Willow told him defensively. "And ya know what? It _**sucks**_ knowing that my two best friends have so little confidence in me!"

"Hey, I have confidence in you!" Jesse said immediately. "You're Willow. You're incredibly smart, you're Knowledge Girl! I'm just saying, it wouldn't hurt to find yourself a professional teacher for this stuff, ya know?"

"And where exactly do you suggest I find one? 'Cause I've been looking everywhere over the past three months, even UC Sunnydale and their Wicca Club! Ooh, I know! I'll look in the latest edition of _Weekly World News_! That's _**sure**_ to have something!" she half-snarled.

"Okay, seriously, Will? You need some time to cool off, and I need to take a leak," Xander announced, getting up off the lounge chair.

"Traitor," Jesse mumbled to himself, even as she watched Xander depart with an angry look on her face. "Uh, Willow –"

"WHAT?"

"Um..." Jesse looked like he was mentally flailing around for a suitable change in topic. He eventually went with, "That a new haircut?"

Willow exhaled loudly, forcibly trying to calm herself down. "Yeah. I decided to take Cordelia's advice, and go for the shoulder-length look. What do you think?"

"It's good! Great, even," Jesse nodded quickly. "So where'd you go? Which hair stylist, I mean?"

She shrugged. "Antonio's."

Jesse looked somewhat surprised. "That really expensive place on Wilkins Boulevard? Huh. I'd have figured – well, what about Supercuts?"

"Nope. I mean, I went there first, but I got a funny vibe off of that place." Willow shrugged, before looking at her friend almost accusingly. "Maybe I inadvertently used the magicks for something you and Xander don't think I'm ready for, who knows?"

He audibly sighed. "You're just not gonna let that go, are ya? Seriously, Willow – is the concept that you're wrong and someone else is right about something really that hard for you to swallow? You don't think there's any possibility our concerns for your well-being are actually justified?"

"What _**I**_ think is that I ought to go home. Or at least somewhere I won't be needlessly criticized for learning magic at my own speed, and not someone else's!" Willow got up from her chair, looking angry all over again.

"It's gonna be dark soon," Jesse said, looking out the window as Xander finally came back onto the room. "Uh, Willow –"

"You're leaving, Will? That's too bad. I was kinda hoping you could help us go through the books," Xander gestured to his recent borrowings from the Sunnydale Public Library. "I mean, you know how Jesse and I are gonna be completely lost on the research thing without you, right?"

"Grrff. Augghhh!" Willow groaned, glaring at him. "That's totally dirty pool, mister!"

"Yeah, maybe, but it doesn't make it any less true," Jesse nodded. Again, she could tell from the pleading look on his face that he truly didn't want her to storm off in a huff this way. Then he added, "Please stay?"

"Oh, fine," Willow said grouchily. "Here, gimme one of those!"

Xander complied, and the research party began to get underway. The trio started looking for anything to do with vampires – the real variety. Fortunately, they were home alone, so that meant no distractions or interruptions. Unfortunately though, over the next hour or so, all three of them learned that most of the material in the books had been written by people who'd obviously watched _Dracula_ far too often –

"This is useless," Xander slammed his book shut angrily. "Who the hell even wrote this stuff, I ask you? I mean, the vamps I saw in that frat house basement, they sure as hell didn't look like any sort of Bela Lugosi impersonator!"

"Well, I guess – we're not looking in the right place," Willow said thoughtfully, closing her own book. "Which isn't all that surprising, if you stop and think about it. I mean, what reputable publishing house is even gonna be interested if the book has, like, zero entertainment value? Vampires are supposed to be _**fictional**_ , remember?"

"I suppose," Xander sighed, before hearing a horn honking outside. He looked out the window and said in surprise, "It's my mom!"

"It's after sunset, she musta decided to drop by and give you a lift home," Willow checked her watch. "My dad's gonna be stopping by to pick me up soon as well, I bet."

"Then I'll see you guys tomorrow," Xander said hurriedly, gathering all the books and dumping them into his backpack. "G'bye!"

"Later, dude." Jesse said his own rushed farewells, as he shut and locked the front door after his friend had left. "Will? Can I get you anything before your dad arrives? Snack, drink, whatever?"

"No thanks, I'm fine. Just – a little tired," she admitted. "And about our argument earlier on – I know you and Xander are only trying to look out for me, but I honestly don't –"

"Yeah, I get it," Jesse nodded, interrupting her. "Guess we're just gonna have to agree to disagree on that stuff, huh? I mean, it's your life, Will. And this is the Nineties 'n all, Women's Lib and all that stuff."

"Yeah," Willow nodded. "Although I can't help but wonder about that, where that Marcie Ross girl is concerned!"

"Huh?" Jesse looked confused.

"Well, is it just me – or was she constantly following Xander around like an adoring puppy for the past month or so, before she and Jonathan Levinson started dating?" Willow asked huffily.

"No, it's not just you," her friend nodded, finally getting what she was referring to. "Seriously, Will – back when Xan went all Oracle Guy on that girl? I got me the weirdest feeling Marcie was willing to get down on her knees and blow him in public, just for noticing that she was there!"

"Jesse!" Willow exclaimed, her cheeks instantly turning pink with embarrassment. { _I mean, hey! Okay, so he's probably right – but I_ _ **don't**_ _need to hear that kind of talk!_ }

"Oh, sorry. Guess I forgot – you're still in love with the guy, aren't you?" Jesse said sympathetically. "Just like I'm still in love with Cordelia. Aw, man – it sucks, doesn't it? You and me, we're in love with people who don't love us back – and there's nothing we can do about it."

"Yeah," Willow admitted painfully.

"Hey, wait a minute – maybe there _**is**_ something we can do about it!" Jesse suddenly straightened up, looking excited.

{ _Oh no. Not another one of his 'cunning' plans to win Cordelia's heart? Still, may as well hear him out..._ } Willow asked resignedly, "What exactly did you have in mind?"

"We go on a date! You and me! Show Xander and Cordelia exactly what they're missing! Better yet, more than one date – and when they see us together that way, they'll get so jealous they'll _**finally**_ realize what idiots they've been, all along!" Jesse exclaimed. "And then we –"

"No."

Willow could almost see the gears in Jesse's head grind to a halt. "Huh?"

"Seriously? _**That's**_ your big plan?" Willow asked in annoyance. "Jesse, you're overlooking one seriously vital thing!"

"What?"

"Xander and Cordelia _**won't**_ get jealous if they think we're dating! They'll be _**happy**_ for us, you big dummy!" She gave him a light slap on the back of his head. "Well, Xander will be, anyway. Cordelia wouldn't care either way, unless she thought that you'd finally gotten over her – and in that case, she'd feel _**relieved**_ rather than happy! And what do you think will happen afterwards, once they find out it was all just a pathetic trick? Huh?"

"Oh. Yeah. I didn't think of that," Jesse admitted, looking embarrassed.

"Well, you should have! Besides, did you really think I'd want to go out on a date with you knowing that you'd rather be with Cordelia, instead? You thought I'd find something like that funny hijinks – or that I'd be willing to sink _ **that**_ low, just in order to get Xander to notice me as something other than a friend? You shoulda known better by now," Willow said sternly.

"Yeah, I guess. And I do, I just – Will, it hurt hearing Cordy say that stuff outside the Bronze that night! That she's _**never**_ gonna be interested in me that way, I mean. And I know I should just get over it, I know that I should try and find someone else – but I can't. I just – I, I just can't!"

"You have to," Willow told him firmly. "Just like I have to, where Xander's concerned. Neither of them are meant for us, Jesse – they're actually meant for –" She quickly shut herself up, cursing her big fat mouth. { _Guess Xander's not the only one around here suffering from that particular syndrome, huh?_ }

"What? What are you talking about, Will?" Jesse frowned, staring at her suspiciously.

"I, I probably shouldn't say anything. It's, it's just gonna upset you," she prevaricated nervously.

"Hey, newsflash, but I'm _**already**_ upset! Now spill!" Jesse demanded. "What's the what, here?"

Willow sighed, pulling her hair into a tight bun. "All right, look. Before I say anything, I want you to keep in mind that Xander doesn't believe what I'm about to tell you is true. Understand? Not in the slightest. Cordelia doesn't believe it either, okay? As far as they're concerned, it's _**not**_ gonna happen. Only problem is, I'm pretty sure it will –"

"What? What's gonna happen?" Jesse interrupted, now looking somewhat concerned. "C'mon, talk to me!"

"Okay, fine. You've heard the story about that fortune-teller, Madam Devora, how she did what she did to Xander during Midsummer's Day?"

"Sure. More than once, even."

"Well, what you _**didn't**_ know is that she did some sorta psychic reading on Xander and Cordelia, before all that happened. She told them both that they had two possible futures ahead of them, and, uh, well –"

Willow quickly told him everything she knew, everything Xander had told her. And to her total lack of surprise, Jesse looked thoroughly stunned and slack-jawed afterwards. Ignoring that, she finished up, "So, according to Madam Devora, Xander and Cordy hafta end up together at some point either during or after high school – or else they're both gonna die, like a few years afterwards."

"Wha... I... what..." Jesse spluttered. "What, I mean – that, that's just, I mean, how – why-?"

"Why? How should I know the answer to that?" Willow demanded, suddenly feeling completely heartbroken. "I mean, hey – I should become Xander's wife, and you should end up Cordelia's husband! Except, according to Fortune-teller Lady, it's _**not**_ gonna work out that way! And I already told Xander, way back when – I'd prefer him alive with her, rather than mourn at his grave within the next decade or so! Are you telling me you don't feel the exact same way about Cordelia?!"

"Well, no, it's, it's just – Xander and Cordy? I mean, they hate each other! Have done, ever since third grade! So, so how is it even _**remotely**_ possible for them to be each other's – soul mate?" her friend asked desperately, almost looking as if he'd been mugged in a dark alley.

"Well, I dunno about the whole soul mate thing. But I figure Xander saving Cordelia's life from that demon, Mikida or whatever it was called, not to mention the vampires who showed up afterwards? That was probably the start of their future together," Willow shrugged slightly. "Look, Jesse, like I said – Xander and Cordy don't believe it's gonna happen, the whole marriage and babies and happily ever after thing. So _**don't**_ say anything about this to either of them, understand? I mean, the only reason I mentioned it just now is because you needed a reason to let Cordelia go, once and for all. And if that doesn't qualify, I don't know what the heck would!"

"Yeah, but – no, wait. How can we be _**sure**_ that this fortune-teller wasn't just, y'know, scamming them both?" Jesse wanted to know, even if to Willow's eyes – he now looked as if he was metaphorically clutching at straws.

"Well, think about it. How did she know Xander's name, before he even introduced himself? How did Madam Devora know about the milkshake Xander spilled on Cordelia's dress all those years ago, or that she broke his nose for it afterwards?" Willow pointed out. "Sure, it's possible she mighta heard about all that from someone earlier on – but keeping in mind what happened to Xander after Cordelia left, that whole Oracle thing? What are the odds Fortune-teller Lady was simply clairvoyant enough to pick up on all that stuff, as well as predict both their futures?"

Jesse could think of nothing to say to that, as Willow's father finally arrived on the scene. So, he simply said goodbye as Mr. Rosenberg knocked on the front door, before the psychiatrist collected his daughter and quickly took her home.

Later, McNally ate an early dinner and then he went upstairs to bed, hoping that either sleep or death would claim him.

Neither did.

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks to everyone for all the feedback and reviews so far, especially my beta readers and (as Alkeni would put it) my backers on this fanfic. As always, 'tis muchly appreciated!


	10. Interludes

**Chapter Ten: Interludes**

 **Willy's Bar, Sunnydale**

 **December 10** **th** **, 1996**

* * *

Spike sat alone on the barstool, gulping down whiskey shots and glaring at anyone foolish enough to come anywhere near him – apart from Willy himself, of course. Well, as long as the bartender-slash-snitch kept the alcohol coming, anyway.

Truth be told, these days Spike looked very little like the easy-going, self-assured, and even somewhat fun-loving vampire that had arrived on the Hellmouth with Drusilla. Instead he was now sullen, depressed, and full of hate.

He hated Sunnydale. He hated Darla. He hated the humans all around him –

But most of all, Spike hated the Master. With every single fibre of his being.

Honestly, he didn't know how much longer he could keep his vampiricial desires in check where that putrid-looking old monster was concerned. Unfortunately, if he ever did completely lose control that way, that particular battle was something he knew he couldn't possibly win.

So under normal circumstances, Spike figured he would have given up, grabbed Drusilla and driven away with her long ago. Simply split, and let his great-great-grandsire rot in his underground prison.

{ _Not that simple, though, izzit?_ } Spike thought morosely to himself, before grabbing the bottle of Scotch and telling Willy to sod off – before dumping the alcohol down his throat. The whiskey provided a pleasant burn, but all too soon the soothing numbness vanished and Spike was left alone with his thoughts. Such as they were.

{ _Can't leave without Dru. Not quite yet, anyway,_ } Spike thought muzzily to himself. If he'd been sober, he'd have been shocked at the concept of abandoning his sire – but drunk as he was right now, he was able to think that without any problems. { _Gettin' damn close to it, though. Been five months of_ _ **hell**_ _, that's what's it been! No Slayer. No Angelus. Not even any proper bloodbaths, apart from that one time –_ }

Spike paused in his contemplations, recalling that night with Machida and his human servants. He had occasionally wondered why Drusilla had chosen that particular evening to lead him and the others down into the frat house basement, the night of the demon's annual feast. And thanks to his state of intoxication, his undead brain focussed on something – make that someone – he hadn't really bothered thinking about since the massacre in question.

{ _Dru's so-called kitten. Wonder what's up, 'xactly, where that git's concerned?_ } Spike asked himself, before gulping down some more booze. { _Why's my girl interested in some nameless twit like 'im? Yes, all right, the stupid berk could actually bluff worth a damn, pulling that 'destiny' crap out of his arse. But still – what was all that guff about some 'dark lady'?_ }

{ _And what the hell, why was Dru also interested in that bint with the big ta-ta's? Looked to me like she was nothin' but your typical bit o' fluff – and red in tooth 'n claw, my John Thomas! That tart looked more like the type ta hide behind the nearest bloke capable of defending her, by promising to shag him senseless afterwards. Not that she'd ever deliver, o' course – met_ _ **that**_ _sort plenty of times, after all!_ }

Spike scowled, plonking the bottle down on the surface of the bar. Deep down, he knew that his ruminations were probably pointless – because even on her best day Drusilla was completely out of her mind, and although she'd never once prophesized anything that had later turned out to be false or incorrect in any way, her interest in those two was probably an ephemeral fancy that would soon pass. Just like those canary birds he used to buy for her in Europe – she'd forget to feed them, and they'd die, and his sire would get all upset before finding something else to distract herself with.

So did those two mortals really matter? Probably not. Hell, almost certainly not.

Obviously, time to find something else to occupy his thoughts –

{ _Oh, bloody hell, who_ _ **cares**_ _which human wanker won that sodding national election last month?_ } William thought drunkenly, after briefly listening to a pair of Wainakay demons talking at the other end of the bar. { _What effin' difference does it make? Democrat, Republican, Labor, Tory government – they're all the bleedin' same. Reckon someone oughta put a sign up after every Election Day – 'Old Bums Exit Here, New Bums Enter Here,' or summat like that. Probably cause a laugh riot with the_ Sun _readers back home!_ }

"Oh, my poor Spoike. You're not happy 'ere, are you?"

William didn't bother wondering how Drusilla had managed to sneak up on him; even after the past hundred and sixteen years, she was always capable of surprising him somehow. He just turned around and said in a sluggish and extremely slurred voice, "No, pet, I'm not. And pretty sure ya don't need ta be psychic to have figured _**that**_ out by now, 'ey?"

Drusilla's face immediately crumpled, and she seemed ready to burst into tears. "So sad, so bad. One sneeze is lucky, two sneezes queer. Three sneezes, get your hanky – oh dear, oh dear, oh dear!"

Spike frowned, forcing himself to focus a little. He had the feeling that the words of the old nursery rhyme meant something, but at this precise moment – well, he simply couldn't be arsed trying to figure them out. William just grabbed the whiskey bottle, took a big gulp and burped – loudly – before he said, "Balls! That's it, Dru. I want ya to gimme a worthwhile reason ta stay, or I'm outta here. With or without you!"

"On the night of the crescent moon, the first past the solstice, it will come," Drusilla told him, her eyes vague and unfocused. "The Harvest, Spoike. Daddy will be hiding nearby –"

"Angelus?" Spike suddenly felt interested, getting up off the barstool and leaving the bottle of whiskey on top of the bar. Despite all the alcohol in his system, he managed to sober up a little by sheer willpower alone. "So, he's 'ere at last?"

"Daddy – no. The Angel-beast! It's here!" Drusilla suddenly hissed, blowing hot and cold like the mad woman she was. "The Slayer. The Slayer's comin', Spike! I can't see her, it's too dark where she is. But she's coming soon, she is! The Angel-beast can't think of _**anything**_ but her!"

"Yeah, fine – but how soon is 'soon', pet? We already spent damn near six months 'ere fer nothing, after all," Spike replied unsympathetically.

Deep down, granted, he felt immensely cheered up. His grandsire was here, which meant a chance to finally kill the Master, not to mention a third Chosen One to slaughter – assuming Angelus didn't kill her first, if the old man was _**that**_ obsessed with the latest bird – but if his time in Sunnydale had taught him anything?

The glass was always half-empty around here, and never half-full.

"Days. Weeks," Dru said in reply to his question. "The time of waiting is almost over –"

Without warning, she whirled around and quickly strode out of the bar. Spike could hear his sire muttering some nonsense or other about her 'kitten' and the 'naughty girl', but he didn't pay any attention to that.

{ _Well, hell. I already lasted five months around 'ere – figger I can hang on fer at least one more. But then, the reckoning will come,_ } Spike thought to himself eagerly, grabbing the whiskey bottle and draining it completely. { _Oh yeah, Darla. And you too, ya red-eyed, bat-nosed arsehole. Vengeance_ _ **will**_ _be mine!_ }

* * *

 **Outside the Summers residence, Los Angeles**

 **The same time**

The refurbished 1970 Hemi Cuda, with the custom light red 'Vitamin C' exterior and white leather interior, came to a halt as the driver parked his vehicle slowly and carefully outside the house.

Buffy looked at her father as he switched off the ignition of his pride and joy, and she thought to herself, { _Okay, why do I get the feeling that the term 'home sweet home' doesn't exactly apply here?_ }

Such thoughts reflected the jaded mind of a somewhat cynical female teen, who'd had to grow up way too fast over the past year or so. It was true enough, though – Hank Summers hadn't been in the greatest of moods during the drive back from Nevada.

Buffy wasn't sure if it was because of all the money her dad had forked out for that private detective to track her down in Vegas, or because the detective would have reported that she'd been sharing an apartment with Pike – well, until he'd moved out, after Oliver had met some showgirl and fallen hopelessly in lust with her.

It could even have been because her father might have had heard about the Slayage-related activities she'd gotten up to, in the city which Bugsy Siegel had built –

Or, maybe, it was because her dad was just totally fed up having to deal with his 'delinquent' daughter. Like, driving hundreds of miles to another _**state**_ in order to bring her home.

"Well, we're here. You better go inside, Buffy, your mother's waiting for you," Hank said, looking at the steering wheel.

Buffy looked at him in surprise. "You aren't coming in, too?"

"Ah... no." Hank paused, and then turned to look her in the eye. "After you left, things just – well, your mother and I – uh, we're not together, not anymore."

"I knew it! You guys are getting a divorce, aren't you?" Buffy said, looking panicked. { _No, no, NO! I don't wanna come from a broken home! Not when there's only five or six months to go before I'm finally free of the whole Chosen One gig!_ } "Is it 'cause of me? If it is –"

"BUFFY! It's not you," her father interrupted firmly. "Both your mother and I love you very much; I want you to know that. And believe it! It's just – well, Joyce and I both agree that things have come to the point where we can't fix the problems in our marriage anymore –"

"Marriage is – well, it's _**supposed**_ to be – forever," Buffy cut him off this time. "'Til death do you part, and all that. Remember?"

"I know, and yes, I do. Honey, I said the words to your mom on our wedding day and at the time – I meant them," Hank confessed, looking away. "But sometimes, even when two people seem utterly right for one another – well, I'm not sure how to put this, um – I guess their lives just sort of take different paths, you know? But like I said, that doesn't change how Joyce and I feel about you!" He grimaced slightly. "Even if your actions haven't exactly endeared you to us, lately. I mean – you running away with that motorcycle punk, after he convinced you to start that fire in the school gym!"

"Huh?" Buffy looked at her father in amazement. { _Is_ _ **that**_ _what he thinks? Is that what everyone thinks? They decided to blame Pike for everything?_ }

"The police told your mother and me everything, so please, Buffy – you don't have to try to defend that Oliver Pike guy to me. To either of us," Hank kept going, looking at her with a somewhat sad expression on his face. "And like I was saying, even though Joyce and I are now separated and will be divorcing soon, that doesn't mean I want to cease being part of your life. Okay, the whole weekend dad thing – well, you know what my schedule at work is like, I'm not sure if I'll be able to –"

"Mom's gotten custody of me? Already? Without either of you even asking me for my input about that?" Buffy interrupted, looking crushed.

"Well, uh – you were in Las Vegas at the time, and we didn't even have a phone number to call," Hank replied, looking somewhat embarrassed. "Still, I guess that kinda begs the question – do you want to stay with me? Don't get me wrong, I'd be ecstatic about that if you did – but you know how I work eighty hour weeks sometimes, and if I petitioned for custody, I just don't know if the judge would –"

"Yeah, you're right. I mean, I wouldn't want to be any sort of burden on you," Buffy interrupted yet again, looking away from her father. "It's fine, I can stay with mom. If she wants me, that is."

"Of course she does!" Hank said at once, looking back at her in seeming dismay. "Sweetie, we _**both**_ want you, and if there was any way Joyce and I could keep on doing that –"

"Well, you guys could always try the counselling thing again, couldn't you? Give your marriage one last chance to work out?" Buffy said, turning to stare at her father hopefully. "Even if it's just for another six months or so, like until next May?"

"Next May?"

"Y'know, until my sophomore year is over," Buffy said hurriedly. She didn't mention anything else, thanks to having been committed for two weeks – after confessing about the Slayer thing to her mom and dad, back at the beginning. Her brief stay in that nuthouse had taught the Chosen One she simply couldn't confide in either of her parents about her 'night job.'

Hank exhaled loudly, before crushing all her hopes. "I'm sorry, Buffy. But I'm pretty sure that's no longer an option. And since you've been expelled –"

"What, they kicked me out already? Without even giving me a chance to explain what happened that night?" Buffy demanded indignantly. It was pretty much just an automatic reflex, though – she'd known, or at least very strongly suspected, that burning down the gym would be the last straw as far as Principal Murray was concerned. Especially after the problematic year she'd had at Hemery High so far.

"I'm afraid so," her dad nodded, looking away again. "And, uh, your mother and I are looking into finding another school that's willing to take you, but so far? The pickings are pretty slim. Just about the only one that didn't say 'no' immediately is Sunnydale High School, it's about two hours away up the coast –"

"What? Wait, dad, rewind. Did, did you say – Sunnydale?!" Buffy cut him off, with an astonished look on her face. "As in, the dale of the sun?"

"Yes. You've heard of it?" Hank looked surprised as he asked that. "Uh, Buffy – I don't know much about the place myself, but I've been told it's a typical SoCal town – small city at best – north of Los Angeles. And a big city girl like you, you'd probably get bored out of your mind there almost immediately! Plus, you and Joyce would have to relocate to Sunnydale on a permanent basis, and I wouldn't be able to visit regularly, if at all –"

"No, it's okay. I mean, if it's the only choice – I'm willing to finish up my sophomore year there, if that makes things any easier for you and mom," Buffy interrupted, ignoring her father's fresh look of surprise. { _Okay. I guess the time has finally come, huh? What Madam Devora and the Loa said, way back when. And sheesh, I really hope those guys knew what they were talking about!_ }

Buffy quickly got out of the car, hurried over to the driver's side, opened the door and yanked Hank out of the vehicle. "C'mon, I want you around while I discuss my new school with mom. Okay? We, we may not be a family anymore – but you're still my father, and I want you present for this. I mean, it's not asking too much for you to do that, right?"

"No, I guess not," Hank said, sounding somewhat bemused, but Buffy didn't pay any attention to that.

She was too busy wondering how to make sure that the next five or six months went exactly the way she wanted them to, so that she could finally get her life back – and then get her parents back together, once all the damn vampires were gone from this world!

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **December 17** **th** **, 1996**

Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, dressed in a rather expensive and foppish-looking suit, blinked as he stared at the colonial high school's headmaster. One whose nameplate read 'R. Flutie'. "I beg your pardon, what was that?"

"I said, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, why do you want this job?" Mr. Flutie asked straightforwardly. "I mean, don't get me wrong – your resume looks very impressive. Graduated with honors from Oxford, not to mention an exclusive private academy in southern Hampshire, plus you can speak eight languages – heck, you've even published quite a few academic papers on a variety of subjects! All this and only twenty-eight years old, again – very impressive. But I can't help wondering, what brings you here to Sunnydale? Why do you want to be the librarian of _**my**_ high school?"

Wesley took a moment to consider the annoying Yank sitting on the other side of the table, and resisted the urge to sigh impatiently. { _Can't exactly tell you the truth, can I? And believe me, if I had my way regarding this matter – I_ _ **wouldn't**_ _have applied to be the librarian at this blasted school, either!_ }

Still, orders were orders with regard to his undercover role in this town. And roughly three weeks ago, Wesley had been utterly chuffed to learn that he'd been selected to be the Watcher for the Slayer. It was every Academy graduate's dream, after all – the privilege of actually guiding the Chosen One, mentoring and teaching her, recording her battles and achievements: it was why everyone ever entered the Academy in the first place.

Aside from gaining a seat on the board of the High Council, there was no higher ambition for a Watcher to aspire to.

Granted, Wesley had been somewhat surprised to learn that _**he**_ had been chosen to take over for the current Chosen One, after Merrick Jamison-Smythe had been killed in the line of duty. Although he'd faced two vampires under controlled conditions and was the Academy's top graduate, he was still somewhat young – compared to older and more experienced Watchers, at least. But apparently, his youth was one of the reasons he'd beaten the other contender for the job; according to his father and Quentin Travers, Slayer Summers was rebellious and insolently intolerant of the Council's representatives, unable to get along with the more traditional authority figures.

{ _I'll soon show her who the boss is, though,_ } Wesley thought pompously, before he noticed Mr. Flutie was still waiting for his answer. { _Ah, bugger! Focus, man –_ }

"The reasons I have for wanting this job are many and varied, Mr. Flutie. However, the one which would probably be the most relevant – is that I'm the most qualified candidate which you're going to find," Wesley said smoothly, using ancient childhood lessons of comportment on how to deal with the current situation. "My record speaks for itself: I'm familiar with the old Dewey decimal system, as well as the more recent alternatives – such as those proposed by your nation's Book Industry Study Group. I can manage even a shoestring budget, I can keep up to date with the latest publications, and I can weed out the old and irrelevant sources for the students."

"And?" The irritating sod just would _**not**_ quit his incredibly annoying digging!

This time, he did sigh. " _ **And**_ I'm looking for a fresh start far away from my native land, to be absolutely honest. Not that it has a major impact on the job you're interviewing me for, if any, but I'm looking to build myself a new life in a quiet little town such as this. Does that satisfy your professional curiosity?"

"Yes, it does," Flutie suddenly stood up and smiled, extending his arm out. "Congratulations, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce – the job is yours. When can you start?"

Wesley shook hands with the ignorant buffoon, easily concealing his contempt for the older man. "First thing tomorrow morning, sir. And I'd like to thank you for giving me this opportunity, Mr. Flutie; I really do appreciate it!"

The last thought to enter Wesley's mind, just before he exited the headmaster's office, was that his Slayer could not possibly arrive in Sunnydale soon enough – and he could get started on his _**real**_ job around here.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Gymnasium, Sunnydale**

 **December 20** **th** **, 1996**

"All right, listen up!" the Phys. Ed. teacher known as Mr. Herrold blew his whistle and yelled to all the sophomore students mingling and talking to one another. "It's raining, so that means your regular gym class outside is no longer an option. That's why I want you to warm up a little, stretch your muscles – you all know what to do by now – and then?"

He held up a large rubber ball and said eagerly, "Dodgeball! Now, for those of you that may have forgotten, the rules are simple: you grab a ball and toss it at someone else. For those of you without a ball, you dodge until you can get your hands on one. If you're hit, you're out. Last student standing wins. Any questions?"

"Yeah, I have a question. If any of the retards in this class cause me to have any kind of injury that'll prevent me from being part of the cheerleading squad after Christmas break – you _**do**_ know that my dad will be suing this school for every penny it's got, right?" Cordelia Chase spoke up archly, as her friends – brain-dead bimbos, for all that they were hot-looking pieces of ass – giggled loudly.

Mr. Herrold scowled at the Chase girl. Personally, he couldn't stand her type – arrogance born of money was stamped all over those tanned, beautiful features. { _Makes me wonder why the hell she's actually attending a public high school, instead of one of those private all-girl academies around here! Still –_ }

"Well, far be it for me to risk your future career as the school's head cheerleader, Miss Chase. So choose yourself a bodyguard, if you're _**that**_ worried about getting a sore rib or a bruised knee!" He suddenly smirked, before turning around and barking out, "Harris! You saved Miss Chase's life from those snake-worshipping frat boys a few months ago, didn't you? So I'm pretty sure you won't object to putting your neck on the line for her again today, right?"

"No, sir," the kid said mechanically, looking down and refusing to make eye contact.

"Good! All right, if there are no more questions, then let's get started. Two minutes warm-up, and then we begin." Mr. Herrold blew his whistle, and gestured for the kids to commence their preparations.

He watched with slight amusement as Chase came over and grabbed Harris by the arm, before lecturing him on what he was going to do once the game got started. That amusement only increased when he noticed that the boy refused to even look at her, keeping his eyes away from the brunette's face at all times as the kid began stretching his legs and doing a few push-ups.

Mr. Herrold nodded to himself approvingly. He hadn't forgotten the big brouhaha back in October, how those fraternity brothers had been into murder and human sacrifice – hell, it was no wonder how, after the juicy newspaper headlines the next day, the board of governors had ordered the college to shut down and delist that particular fraternity, and refund all the money its past and present members had donated in the name of charity or whatever.

The mud had still stuck, in his opinion, at least to some extent. But Herrold figured the brass had done whatever it could to distance themselves from the kidnapping of three high school girls – who were all real lookers, too, no denying that – and the various murder victims, which had been found down in that basement and in the nearby cemetery.

It _**was**_ somewhat surprising that Harris hadn't tried to capitalize on his sudden fame, though, now that he thought about it. The kid could have attempted to make a name for himself after something like that, pass himself off as some kinda hero in order to open doors later in life – but he hadn't. If anything, Harris had immediately tried to sink back down into the depths of obscurity.

{ _Well, good for him. 'Cause I don't like the hero types. Usually, they're just assholes who do shit like that for the publicity, or whatever, and they get the people in the background hurt or killed,_ } Mr. Herrold thought dismissively. He then checked his watch and nodded to himself.

"Time's up!" he yelled out, blowing his whistle again. "Okay, get in position!" All the kids quickly lined up, moving away from the center court. Half of them on one side of the gymnasium, and the other half on the other side, facing each other.

"Get ready!" Mr. Herrold shouted, before he began tossing the balls out into the crowd. "GO!"

The gym quickly dissolved into a ball-throwing frenzy. The teacher noticed that Harris quickly nailed one of the other students with his ball, but then moved back to cover the Chase girl. Mr. Herrold smirked as he heard the spoiled brat screaming at him, something about getting his over-sized hooves off of her custom-manufactured sneakers, before Harris grabbed hold of the mouthy little monster and yanked her down to avoid being hit –

Watching from the sidelines, Mr. Herrold watched the game progress and noted which students were quickly eliminated. He frowned as he heard the Kendall girl telling some of her friends to target one of the Chess Club nerds – Rosenberg, yeah, that was her name – but the redhead got lucky, as Harris's friend McNally stepped in the way and took all three balls on the chest for her.

"God, this game is brutal. I love it!" Mr. Herrold said to himself enthusiastically, as more and more kids walked off the court after getting hit by one of the balls.

Soon, there were only four students left – Harris and Chase on one side, and two different kids on the other one. Mr. Herrold frowned as he tried to remember their names – oh yeah, Tor Hauer and Heidi Barrie, that was it – and then he looked on in great anticipation over what exactly the finalists would do.

"Get out of my way, Doofus!" the Chase girl abruptly shouted, grabbing the ball out of Harris's hands and hurling it at the Barrie girl. The blonde dodged, but not quick enough – Chase scored a glancing hit on her shoulder, and then Barrie was out. And then there were three.

Hauer moved. He hit Harris directly in the face, and from the way the kid yelped and covered his nose, that ball must have hit _**hard**_. And then there were two.

"Xander? You're hurt!" Chase actually seemed to be concerned, paying no attention to Hauer – who was now standing still on the opposite side of the gym. She gestured towards Harris, "Mr. Herrold, his nose is bleeding!"

"Auggh – all right, that's it, game over! We'll call this one a tie between you and Hauer, Miss Chase. Harris, don't move. The rest of you, go hit the showers and get changed – no, not _**you**_ , Hauer! You just bought yourself a ticket straight to the principal's office, now get moving!" Mr. Herrold told him roughly.

As Hauer simply shrugged and strolled off, accompanied by the Barrie girl and two other kids – Kyle DuFours and Rhonda Kelly – Mr. Herrold examined Xander's nose carefully. { _Well, I'm no doctor, but I'm pretty sure this is just a flesh wound. If that!_ }

"Look at me, Harris. I said _**look at me**_ , dammit!" Herrold growled at him, who finally complied and turned his head around. He touched the kid's nose, ignoring the yelp of pain. "Well, I don't think it's broken or anything. But you better go see the school nurse just to make sure. Ms. Greenleigh will give you an ice pack or whatever to prevent swelling, so get going."

"What, so, is that it?" the Chase girl demanded, looking annoyed. "No apology or whatever?"

"Cordy..." the Harris boy groaned, but Mr. Herrold ignored him. So did the brunette, unsurprisingly enough.

"All right, this ought to be good. Exactly what do I need to apologize for, Miss Chase?" he wanted to know.

"How about endangering the health and safety of your students?" the rich girl demanded. "And maybe you didn't know, Mr. Herrold, but my father is on the school board – and he gives, like, _**tons**_ of money to the alumni fund every year for Christmas." Her smile suddenly took on definite toothpaste commercial overtones. Malicious ones. "Donations that _**might not**_ be forthcoming, when he finds out how the guy who saved his daughter's life was needlessly injured – just because _**you**_ like to get off on watching us pound each other with red rubber balls! And that'll make for an interesting conversation with Principal Flutie, won't it?"

Herrold scowled. "Are you threatening me, Miss Chase?"

"No!" Harris jumped in between them, looking desperate. "I mean, hey, look! The bleeding's stopped and everything. So, uh, Cordy, maybe we should be going now? Y'know, me to the nurse's office, and you to tell Harmony and the others that they're playing with fire, trying to target Willow that way –"

Mr. Herrold snorted derisively at once. "Son, if there's one thing you oughta know about women – it's the fact that none of them like a pleading whiner! Myself, I believe that the guy should keep a firm hand on the tiller –"

He suddenly broke off in surprise; impossible as it sounded, the Harris kid's eyes had just changed color! Instead of brown, they were now _**green**_ –

" _Everything which has a beginning also has an end, and that includes a wife's fidelity to her husband. So it's a wise man who makes sure he isn't cuckolded at the Sunnydale Motor Inn, later this afternoon."_

Mr. Herrold gaped at Harris, as the boy's eyes changed color again. { _What the-?_ }

Then the weird freak nodded and placed an arm around the Chase girl's waist (wait, were those two _**together**_ or something?) as he said, "Thank you for the advice, sir, it's much appreciated. And now, if you'll excuse us?" Harris quickly started to walk away, dragging the rich bitch along with him. "We really gotta go!"

Mr. Herrold blinked a number of times, before noticing he was now alone in the empty gymnasium. So he quickly departed, heading back to the staff room to officially report the minor student injury to the school's health and safety officer, and to talk to the principal about disciplining the Hauer kid.

But all the while, he couldn't stop thinking about what Harris had said to him inside that gymnasium – and so he decided to take a long lunch break, leaving the school campus and heading for the Sunnydale Motor Inn.

There were _**no**_ words to describe his state of mind when he learned that his wife was cheating on him with a _**woman**_ , instead of a guy –

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **Not long after the end of gym class**

Cordelia was having one hell of a panic attack, as Xander guided her out of the gymnasium and they headed in the general direction of the girls' change rooms. Because she had seen Xander's eyes change color just now, and she had heard his 'advice' to Mr. Herrold.

Straightaway, she'd started having flashbacks to that, that, that _**nightmare**_ two months ago – the evening when she had almost been killed. Cordelia tried to stop it, but the carefully repressed memories were now free to roam, howling madly, throughout her conscious mind –

{ _I'm an Oracle. It's sorta my thing. I can't control it, or even remember the warnings I give out whenever my eyes turn green that way._ }

{ _A witch I knew once said that that's S.O.P. for guys like me. I'm guessin' prophecy's kinda like that?_ }

{ _Hey, Reptile Boy! You don't want to eat Cordy! Look at her – she's practically skin and bones. Half an hour later, you'll just be hungry again. So take me, instead!_ }

"Ohmigod, ohmigod, ohmigod!" Cordelia almost started babbling in panic, as she finally remembered the big scaly _**thing**_ which had come out of that well in the basement – Machida, that was its name – and how the Dweeb had made it back off, somehow, instead of letting it reach out and grab her for its annual feast. "Xander, you, you, you-!"

"I what?" Dumbass Boy looked terminally clueless, as usual.

"Your eyes! They changed color just now! Just like before, just like –"

"They did? Damn," Xander scowled, interrupting her at once. "What did I say? I mean, what happened, exactly?"

"What happened? You saved my life from that monster!"

There was no conscious decision to do it, but nonetheless, Cordelia plunged her lips onto his – grabbing Xander's head, and almost sucking out his tonsils. The desperate, passionate, emotion-filled kiss lasted for barely two seconds, but nonetheless – for her, anyway – it seemed to last for a lot longer than that –

"What are you two _**doing?!**_ "

Immediately, she let go of the Dweeb as she spun around to see his two friends standing right behind them. { _Damn! I was actually starting to enjoy myself –_ }

Burying that particular _**insane**_ thought immediately, Cordelia instinctively went on the attack as she glared at Willow. "None of your business, Nerd Girl!" She then sent a hard look at Jesse, "And not _**one**_ word outta you, Stalker Boy! Got it? I'll kiss whoever I damn well want to – and if you don't like it, _**tough!**_ "

"Yeah. Kinda got that message already, Cordelia," McNally said miserably, looking down at the floor.

"Jesse, why don't you take Xander to the school nurse, and get his nose checked out? Cordelia and I, we need to talk. In private," Willow said coldly, the girl's sea-green eyes boring into her hazel ones like a pair of lasers.

"Uh, Will, Cordy – you two aren't gonna kill each other or anything, are you?" McNally asked, looking fearful.

"GO!" Cordelia said loudly, at the same time as Willow did. Once the Duo of Dorkness had left, she glowered at the shorter girl. "So, what's your drama?"

Willow remained silent as the geek dragged her by the arm into an empty classroom. Then the redhead said, "Like I said, we need to talk. Because for someone who said she didn't believe that there's a fifty-fifty chance she'll end up Mrs. Cordelia Harris? You sure seem eager to sink your claws into Xander – and sooner, rather than later!"

"Oh, shut up – you jealous little _**nerd**_ ," Cordelia hissed at her indignantly. "And FYI, Willow, there's _**nothing**_ going on between me and the Dork! What you saw just now – it didn't mean anything! I was just kinda overwhelmed – I finally remembered something that I'd been repressing for the past two months, what exactly happened in that frat house basement – how Xander saved me and those other two girls from that Machida thing – and I just..."

"So what brought this on?" Willow wanted to know, staring at her in confusion as she trailed off helplessly. "My parents are both shrinks, y'know, and that's how I've heard that it takes something majorly traumatic in order for –"

The nerd abruptly cut herself off, exhaling loudly. "Oh, no! Xander did it _**again**_ , didn't he? His eyes turned green, and you saw it happen? Not to mention, he gave you – or somebody else – some sorta warning, or, or advice?"

"Yeah. Yeah, he did. And that's gotta be – what, the third time I've witnessed it? First time was with me and Harmony on the first day of school, the second time was down in that frat house basement, and again with Mr. Herrold just now!" Cordelia paused, feeling unsure and... kinda worried. "Willow – what the hell's happened to him? I mean, two months ago I remember him saying – no, never mind. But, well, Xander's not exactly 'normal' anymore, is he?"

"No, he's not," Willow responded shortly. She seemed to consider something very carefully before shrugging and adding, "And neither am I, for that matter."

"Meaning?"

[ Can you hear me, Cordelia? ] the girl's voice said, even though she was _**sure**_ that Willow's lips were like sealed shut. [ Can you hear me speaking to you inside your head? ]

"OH MY GOD!" Cordelia yelped in alarm, whilst nearly jumping off the floor. "The hell-?"

"Magic is real, and I'm a witch. Well, self-taught one, anyway. Xander's an Oracle – even though he still doesn't like thinking of himself as that. No one knows about us, except Jesse – and now, you as well. So welcome to our secret little club, I guess. Oh, and I should mention that demons and vampires are real as well – Xander said you saw them that night, right?" Willow asked nonchalantly.

Cordelia wanted to faint, just like two months ago, but she knew that this time – it wouldn't do her any good. The genie was well and truly out of the bottle, and she couldn't see how she could possibly stuff it back inside where it belonged.

By the blessed fashion designs of Todd Oldham, it felt like she had fallen down the rabbit hole completely, and that her life would never be the same again –

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Ugh. Too much Thai food plus birthday cake equals badness. But on the other hand, nearly five thousand hits and over one hundred reviews equals pure goodness! Thanks as always to everyone who's contributed to those stats and sent me feedback about the fic, I can't find the words to express my gratitude for it. And please, keep it coming!


	11. And I Guess That's Why They Call It

**Chapter Eleven: And I Guess That's Why They Call It The Blues**

 **Sunnydale High School corridor, Sunnydale**

 **December 20** **th** **, 1996**

* * *

As Jesse led him along by the arm to the school nurse's office, Xander was – stunned. Dumbfounded. Dazed. Completely without the capacity for rational thought –

Because just now, Cordelia Chase had kissed him.

 _ **She**_ had kissed _**him**_.

Willingly.

In public.

Something was definitely wrong with this picture. It simply didn't compute.

Because – not only had she kissed him, willingly and in public, he had _**liked**_ it.

A lot.

Her lips had tasted – wonderful. Part of that was the strawberry-flavored lip gloss Queen C was wearing today, sure, but another part of it was just – pure Cordelia Chase. Accept no substitutes.

The girl he'd constantly been fighting with since that milkshake incident back in the third grade had plunged her lips onto his, and for those two seconds (even though it had felt more like two hours!) his brain had completely short-circuited.

Geez – those lips oughta be classified as deadly weapons, kinda like a gun or a knife.

Naw. Better make that nitro, or C4. Cordelia Chase's lips were _**far**_ more dangerous than a pistol or a blade of some kind.

Because if that was what it felt like whenever she kissed someone, then it was no freaking _**wonder**_ how Queen C had so many guys panting after her like dogs in heat.

Including –

{ _Oh_ _ **no**_ _!_ } Xander's brain fully managed to reboot, as he finally noticed Jesse dragging him along with a grim look on his face. { _You_ _ **idiot**_ _! What have you done? The girl your best friend loves just kissed you, right in front of him, and you simply_ _ **spaced out**_ _afterwards? Jesse must be wanting to_ _ **kill**_ _you right now!_ }

"No, hang on, whoa! Stop!" Xander suddenly dug in his heels, as both of them came to a halt. "Jesse, buddy, look – I-I-I know what you saw just now looked pretty bad, but, but Cordy kissed me! Not the other way around! Please, don't hate me –"

"I don't hate you," Jesse semi-mumbled, before lifting his eyes to stare at him. Xander definitely wasn't expecting the look of weary defeat in his best friend's eyes as he added, "I mean – it's not like I didn't know this was coming, dude. Willow told me everything before she swore me to silence a while back, but – I don't think that really matters any longer, do you?"

Harris had to admit it – brain lock mode right now definitely wasn't as much fun as it was when Cordelia did it. "Huh?"

Jesse exhaled, loudly. "Midsummer's Day. Madam Devora. Eventually, either you die alone in Africa, or you live happily ever after with Cordelia. Any of this ringing any bells for you?"

Xander's lower jaw almost hit the floor. "Wha... what are you-?"

"Saying? Basically, that the last itty-bitty piece of hope I had of asking Cordelia to marry me after high school, it's gone now," Jesse shrugged slightly, looking depressed as hell. "She's made her choice, Xan. You won and I lost, so I guess it's time for my concession speech. Uh – congratulations, she's a helluva girl –"

"No!" he insisted at once. "No winning! I didn't win anything! I mean – look, I dunno exactly what Willow's told you, bud, but me and Cordelia? Never gonna happen! I mean, you, you weren't there in that fortune-teller's tent that day, trust me! I, I haven't forgotten – Cordelia said that she wouldn't marry me, even if I was the last man on Earth! She, she, she practically despises me!"

"Sure. That explains why the woman I love stuck her tongue down your throat just now," Jesse replied resignedly.

"She didn't –" Xander now felt extremely frustrated. "Okay, look. I-I know I've told you that nothing's ever gonna happen between you and Cordelia, right? Hell, so has Willow! But you _**shouldn't**_ give up on her, just because you're suddenly thinkin' she's fallen in love with _**me!**_ Ain't nothing could be further from the truth!"

"What is the truth, pal?" Jesse asked in that weary, defeated tone which was definitely starting to rub him the wrong way. "That either you and Cordy end up together, or both of you die alone in less than ten years' time?"

"That's _**not**_ gonna happen!" Xander said vehemently, and automatically.

"Yeah? Why not? I mean, how do you know that for sure?" Jesse asked straightaway. "Because like Willow said, what's easier to believe – that that Madam Devora person really was psychic, along with being able to turn you into Oracle Guy – or she went to all the trouble of finding someone who knew about you spilling that milkshake on Cordy's dress, all those years ago? Not to mention how the woman I love broke your nose for it?"

"I don't _**care**_ what's easier to believe, dammit! Because my future hasn't happened yet! And neither has Cordelia's! Jesse, I _**refuse**_ to think that those are our only choices! Because if that's the case – well, what the hell's the point of me and Cordy trying to achieve _**anything else**_ in our lives?!" he shouted.

"Well, yeah, but – you're actually willing to risk Cordy dying that way?" Jesse asked, now looking totally disappointed in him. "Dude. If it was me, I'd have already put a promise ring on her finger, and started saving up money for the engagement ring once we're old enough!"

"Well, I'm not you," Xander shot back, now feeling extremely uncomfortable with the topic of conversation. "Plus, I'm not in love with Cordelia – and, and she's not in love with me! And I figure, what happened just now? It was a – a fluke, or something. Cordy was upset. Emotional. Whatever, the point is – there'll be no more fluking!"

"I wish I could believe that, Xan. I really do," Jesse shrugged defeatedly. "And I figure Willow wishes she could believe that as well. 'Cause she still loves you the same way I love Cordy, ya know? I mean – ah, hell, you know what Will's like! She'll do whatever she has to, in order to make _**sure**_ you don't die that way. Up to and including giving you up forever! Cordelia herself Willow could care less about – except for how your lifespan is tied to hers, I guess. Me, though, I care about you _**and**_ the love of my life! That's why I gotta do whatever I have to, as well – in order to make sure neither of you ends up dead."

Xander honestly couldn't believe it as his best friend shrugged and said, "I've had a month to think about it, Xan. And lotta sleepless nights at first, I'll admit. But I've come to the conclusion that you and Cordy officially have my blessing, if it means you and her won't end up six feet under soon enough."

* * *

 **Private office at the Sunnydale Zoo, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

The zookeeper named Dr. Weirick finished reading a book on an African sect known as Primals – animal worshippers who believed that humanity, or consciousness, or the soul if you will, was a perversion or dilution of spirit. People who were apparently able, through some sort of ritual involving trans-possession, to draw the spirit of certain animals into themselves.

Predatory animals. Animals such as hyenas.

And according to the author, the act of trans-possession resulted in one achieving superhuman powers – like enhanced strength and speed.

"Fascinating," the zookeeper murmured to himself, making a mental note to contact the Masai tribesmen mentioned in the book – as well as put in a request to the zoo's board of directors with regard to importing that rare breed of spotted hyena to Sunnydale, as soon as possible.

 _{ Crocuta crocuta brevirostris. Catchy name,_ } Dr. Weirick thought absently, as he closed the book and got up off of his desk chair. { _Now, how exactly am I going to sell this to the brass, not to mention the fundraising people? Money's pretty tight at the moment, after all. Ah, well, I'm sure I'll think of something..._ }

* * *

 **Main quad, Sunnydale High School**

 **Later that day**

Xander didn't know why, but he was suddenly reminded of that poem they'd read about in English class last week:

 _Cannon to right of them,  
_ _Cannon to left of them,  
_ _Cannon in front of them  
_ _Volley'd and thunder'd;  
_ _Storm'd at with shot and shell,  
_ _Boldly they rode and well,  
_ _Into the jaws of Death,  
_ _Into the mouth of Hell_

The next moment, though, he figured out why that particular verse had popped into his head. Because Tor and Heidi were heading straight towards him, while Kyle was coming from the left and Rhonda was fast approaching from the right.

{ _Figures. 'Cause these days, when it rains – it pours,_ } Xander thought to himself morosely, looking up for a moment at the stormy sky. The dark clouds were threatening to bucket down rain all over again, true enough, but the real reason for his black mood was listening to what Jesse had had to say just now. About Willow, and Cordelia, and even himself. { _Maybe Amy's mom was right all along, and Sunnydale_ _ **is**_ _cursed. Or maybe_ _ **I**_ _am!_ }

"Oh, look. It's Xander Harris," Kyle said with an ugly sneer on his face, as the quartet closed in around him.

"Do you ever wonder why nobody cool ever wants to hang with you?" Rhonda asked nastily. "It's 'cause you're a member of the 3W's club, Harris."

"Huh?" Xander asked automatically, keeping his eyes averted from the mean kids who now had him surrounded.

"Three-w's. Wimps, weirdos and –" Tor said.

"– wusses. 'Cause it's totally passé to say 'sissy' nowadays," Heidi finished up for her boyfriend.

Xander flicked a momentary look in her direction. It had been a while since he'd last talked with the blonde, and he'd almost forgotten how much sexual impact she had up close and personal. Heidi wasn't the best-looking girl at Sunnydale High, sure – Cordelia had that title all but nailed down in his book, sophomore or otherwise – but Tor's girlfriend made up for it in sheer, uh, animal sensuality.

Too bad about the company she kept, sure. Even though Tor wasn't all bad, for an intimidating badass that had almost broken his nose today, Kyle and Rhonda were just plain bad news –

"So what happened after the school nurse fixed you up? Figured Flutie mighta wanted to interview you 'bout what happened in gym class," Kyle said challengingly.

"You figured wrong," Xander said shortly, keeping his eyes off of any of the four bullies.

"Huh. Kinda surprising. Guy's really been looking for a reason to come down on our asses lately," Rhonda said suspiciously.

Xander said nothing. He just stood there in the quad, waiting for the four teenagers to either attack him or go away. The seconds ticked by, and the tension started escalating –

"You've changed since last year," Heidi said abruptly, turning her head slightly as she examined him. "Time was you'd be babbling and comin' up with stupid jokes to try to disguise the fact that you're shit-scared, Xander. But now, nothing. Why is that?"

"Don't ask, Heidi. You seriously don't wanna know," Xander replied, refusing to even look in her direction.

"Ya never look at anybody anymore, either. Not directly in the eye, anyway. Well, apart from Rosenberg and McNally, of course," Tor said, his bright blue eyes now as cold as ice. "Might wanna satisfy my curiosity 'bout that, Xan. Do an old friend a favor, y'know?"

"Tor, we haven't been friends since the day you and Kyle decided to beat the shit outta me and Jesse 'cause you were bored, or whatever," Xander said emptily. "And you don't _**want**_ me to look you 'n your buds in the eye, trust me on that. Weird shit happens when I do that now."

"Oh yeah?" Kyle sneered.

"Yeah. Like, one time, this evil psycho put a sword to my neck to make me look at him, while Cordy and two other girls were trapped in that frat house basement. Less than two minutes later, he was a blood-soaked corpse on the floor. I didn't kill him, but I saw what did. Probably read about that in the town paper, right?"

Xander shrugged, as the quartet inadvertently took a step back away from him. "So how about it, Kyle? You really want me to look at you? Do you feel lucky?" He didn't actually say the word 'punk', but the inference from the _Dirty Harry_ movie was totally clear to everyone present.

Kyle glowered and opened his mouth to reply, but Heidi beat him to the punch. "So what's the story with you and Cordelia nowadays, anyway?"

"What do ya mean?" Xander again briefly glanced in her direction.

"She means, what's the what with you and the stuck-up rich girl? Like, are you guys fuck buddies now?" Rhonda asked contemptuously.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that, Rhonda. 'Cause otherwise, Cordy would eventually find out – and if I know her, she'd get her dad's lawyers to make your family just as poor as Jack O'Toole's," Xander replied evenly. "Maybe even poorer."

"You threatening my girl, Harris?" Kyle demanded, taking a few steps closer.

"No. But go ahead 'n throw the first punch, Kyle. Sure, it might get Tor here suspended or expelled for bein' part of two such incidents in one day, but you do what you want. If you're man enough to do it, anyway," Xander shrugged, still refusing to look at him.

Kyle growled, and raised his right arm – only for Heidi to grab it and wrench it around the guy's back. "Wouldn't," she said to him pleasantly.

"The hell are you doing?" Rhonda demanded, her eyes widening.

"Oh, nothing much. Just kinda partial to the fact that my boyfriend attends high school with me," Heidi nodded in Tor's direction. "Didn't want Kyle screwin' that up."

"Lemme go, dammit!" DuFours started to struggle.

"First off, you hafta to promise to behave," Heidi said to him, tightening her grip. "Otherwise, be an awfully loud cracking noise."

"Let him go," Rhonda said angrily. "And Kyle, promise her you won't do anything stupid! Harris isn't worth this idiotic fighting amongst ourselves, dammit!"

"Fine, I promise," Kyle nodded, before Heidi let him go. He glared at her and then at Xander, before grabbing Rhonda's right hand with his left one. "C'mon, babe – we're outta here!" The male teen then said to Tor, "We'll talk about your girlfriend's actions later."

"Always got time for talking," Tor shrugged, as Heidi drifted back to his side. "Later, you two."

"Ditto." Heidi watched Kyle and Rhonda depart, before returning her gaze towards Xander. "Kyle's developing issues, hon. And you never did answer my question, Harris. You and Cordelia together now?"

"Lemme answer that question with one of my own, Heidi. In what universe would a girl like Cordelia Chase _**ever**_ settle for a guy like me?" Xander asked her, before snorting loudly. "Never gonna happen. Despite what my two best friends may happen to think."

"Huh. Well, guess that means my plan for you, me, Chase and Heidi to have a foursome at some point – it's now completely down the crapper," Tor said reflectively.

Xander honestly couldn't help it. He turned to look at Hauer in opened-mouth amazement –

"Son of a bitch, Harris, you really weren't kidding! Heigh-ho, did you see-?" Tor said excitedly.

"Yeah," Heidi wrapped an arm around Tor protectively, before glaring back at him. "Neat trick with making your eyes turn green and sparkly that way, I gotta admit. But what exactly was that supposed to mean?"

Xander sighed. { _Oh, man, again? That's twice in one day, God damn it! I have_ _ **got**_ _to learn how to avoid looking people in the eye like that!_ } "I can't tell you. Not won't – _**can't**_. Because I don't ever remember what I say afterwards, whenever – that – happens. So, wanna fill me in?"

"Seriously? 'Your life will undergo drastic upheaval before you find your true path, but be wary how much danger you'll face until that happens.' That's what you said, Harris, word for word. Now what's it mean?" Tor asked, suddenly smirking and looking very comfortable with how Heidi was protectively wrapping herself around him.

"Beats the hell outta me," Xander replied immediately, shaking his head. Then he frowned. "And some free advice for you guys – _**don't**_ tell anyone about this. Any of it. 'Cause Willow would eventually kill you both if anything ever happened to me, after the wrong set of ears finally heard the rumors."

Heidi snorted in amused contempt. "She'd try –"

"No, she'd succeed. There's a reason why Cordelia's told her flock to leave Will alone nowadays, you know?" Xander interrupted, not bothering to avoid the direct gaze of both Tor and Heidi any longer. In his mind, the damage had already been done – just like with everyone else in the know. "Don't piss her off, either of you. It'd be the last mistake you ever make. Hell, even Jesse and I hafta be careful not to get Willow too mad at us, nowadays," he added stonily, before walking away from the two bullies.

{ _Well, crap. Did I do the right thing, warning them? And my life surely just got a_ _ **lot**_ _more complicated, didn't it?_ }

* * *

 **4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

Cordelia was still freaking after all the events of the day, alone in her bedroom.

Seeing Willow do magic, seeing Xander do the Oracle thing again – oh my God, _**kissing**_ the Dweeb! – plus remembering what had really happened two months ago? It was simply too much.

Too much to deal with. Too much to live with.

Bad enough that two people she'd known since kindergarten were now officially part of the Weirdo Squad, but learning that the monsters were _**real**_ – and that they lived here in the same town that she did?

No freaking wonder she had totally repressed everything that night in the Delta Zeta Kappa basement!

{ _It's all Xander's fault,_ } Cordelia thought to herself grouchily, as she paced around in her room. { _Seriously – it's_ _ **got**_ _to be his fault, somehow! Sure, it'd be nicer if I could blame Willow, or even that idiot Jesse – but I can't. They're totally – peripheral to this whole mess, yeah, that's the word I'm looking for! And if the Dork gets any ideas after the way I kissed him today –_ }

She groaned. Even now, she couldn't get the memory of kissing Xander Harris out of her mind! What the hell was wrong with her?

{ _How about the fact that you_ _ **liked**_ _it? You honestly liked kissing Xander freaking Harris,_ } that annoyingly snide and irritating voice from the back of her head informed her. { _In fact, just in case it needs pointing out? If Willow and Jesse hadn't come along when they did, the odds are you'd have kept on kissing that lamer until you ran out of oxygen. And_ _ **that**_ _woulda been really of the embarrassing, wouldn't it?_ }

Stupid inner voice. That _**so**_ wouldn't have happened, dammit!

{ _Really? Well, maybe you didn't notice, but the Dumbass wasn't exactly pushing you off of him in disgust earlier today,_ } Snide & Irritating voice told her sarcastically. { _And he's a guy, so let's face it. At the very least, you've given him – certain ideas. Who knows – maybe he's started wondering about Mrs. Cordelia Chase-Harris, like Madam Devora mentioned might happen? Given what Willow said today, anyway, the Doof can't have forgotten what took place in that fortune-teller's tent._ }

That was six freaking months ago! Oh, bite me –

{ _You really oughta avoid using that phrase. Next time, Harris might make that lameass joke about not wanting to catch anything from you amongst other people._ }

He _**so**_ wouldn't! Ugh. Except – get him pissed off enough, and he probably would, at that. Grrrrr! Well, what now?

{ _Okay, here's an idea. Tomorrow's the winter Solstice, not to mention the guy's birthday. So why not get Xander a birthday present? Deliver it to him in person; you_ _ **know**_ _it wouldn't take much to convince Daddy to let you borrow the limo for the evening. Heck, if he's got the time, Daddy would probably drive you there to Whiteoak Drive himself! It'd provide the chance to talk to Xander in private, and clear the air between you. Make sure he hasn't gotten the wrong idea about what you kissing him today really means._ }

Cordelia paused. That wasn't a bad idea. In fact, it made a helluva lot of sense –

{ _Just keep in mind, it'd also provide you with a chance to kiss him senseless tomorrow night – if you decide it'd be more fun to simply throw yourself at him, like you did today._ }

Augggggghhhhhh!

* * *

 **Hammersmith Park, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

Angel sniffed the night air, catching a whiff of a very familiar scent as he walked the streets of the Hellmouth. He mentally girded his loins and stopped in the middle of the playground, watching the carousel slowly turn, and the swings move thanks to the light breeze.

"It's the Angel-beast!" Drusilla's voice came out of the darkness as she walked towards him, just as he'd suspected would happen. "You're 'ere, at last!"

"Hello, Drusilla," Angel replied, watching her carefully. He was no longer the stinky, weak vampire he had been a few short months ago, but even so; it wouldn't do to relax his guard around his demented offspring. Her insanity made her – dangerous. Even to him.

Drusilla slowed down as she approached him, before saying, "Do you remember the song my mummy used to sing me? Pretty."

Angel nodded. "I remember."

"Yes. They put in the spark in my Daddy, and so you can't ever forget, can you?" Dru asked rhetorically. "I knew you were coming, not-Daddy. So I told Grandmother and Great-Grandfather, and even my dear, darling Spoike. They're all so eager to meet you..."

{ _Yeah, I'll bet they are. Just great!_ } "Drusilla, leave here. Get out of Sunnydale as soon as you can, and take Spike with you," Angel ordered her. "Because if you don't leave, it'll go badly. For all of us."

Drusilla shook her head. "I didn't want to believe it, but the stars and the moon and Miss Edith all insisted. The girl. That Slayer. Your heart stinks of her!" She put her hand on his chest, adding, "She has no idea what's to come, thanks to the Kitten and the naughty girl!"

Angel frowned as he moved back, forcing Drusilla to drop her hand away from his chest. "What are you talking about, Dru? Who are you talking about?"

The dark-haired vampiress suddenly shivered. "I can't see. It's too bright where they are. So bright – it hurts. The Dark Lady is involved, not-Daddy. NOOOO!" she suddenly screamed into the darkness, as Angel inadvertently took a step back. "I can't _**see**_ it!"

Angel shook his head, making a mental note to try to find out what exactly had gotten her so spooked. And who this 'Dark Lady' person was. "Listen to me, Dru. You need to take Spike and leave the Hellmouth. Right now. Understood? Just go!"

Angel turned around and left the playground, already knowing – deep in his heart of hearts – that his warning to Drusilla wouldn't be heeded.

He hadn't forgotten hearing from Whistler that things weren't happening the way the Powers had originally foreseen, and meeting Drusilla again here and now, that only reinforced his suspicion that Sunnydale would soon turn into a war zone –

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Hope everyone out there had/will have a happy Valentine's Day! And thanks as always to everyone who's read, reviewed and sent feedback about the story...especially the people who've given me ideas about Buffy's arrival in Sunnydale and the Hyena incident...


	12. If Life Gives You Lemons, Make OJ

**Chapter Twelve: If Life Gives You Lemons, Make Orange Juice**

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **December 21** **st** **, 1996**

* * *

As the clock struck midnight, Midwinter's Day officially arrived. For some vampires, this was the true New Year's celebration; because it was the longest night of the year.

But the Master wasn't interested in that right now. Because he was staring at Drusilla's weeping and hysterical form, and wondering what had reduced her to such a mess.

"Be silent and calm yourself, child," the Master said to her. "Now speak clearly to me. What have you foreseen?"

"Oh, it's all wrong, it is," Dru said, instantly calming herself at her great-grandsire's command. "My Angel's 'ere, 'n we talked. Then the goblins and the pixies, they interrupted our conversation, whispering the most 'orrible things –"

"Goblins? Pixies? Oh, good grief," Darla interrupted, rolling her eyes in disgust – before she focused on the most important part of Drusilla's information. "Wait, Dru – Angelus is actually here on the Hellmouth?"

"That's what she said, idnit? You gotten hard o' hearing, thanks to old age?" William smirked at her.

The Master could tell that yet another argument was brewing between the two of them, and gestured slightly to end it before it even began. "Angelus was the most vicious creature I ever met. You know, I actually miss him."

"Me, too," Darla nodded immediately.

"Yeah, well, not sure I believe I'm actually sayin' this, but – me three," William shrugged. "After all – weren't for Angelus, the Nazis or them Yank sailor boys woulda done fer me good 'n proper, way back when!"

"Not Angelus. He's not my Daddy. He's the ANGEL-BEAST!" Drusilla suddenly screamed, startling the other three vampires.

"Yes, the curse," the Master nodded, recovering first. "Absolutely right, my dear. That soul of his does make quite the difference, after all."

"Master, with your permission – I could talk to him. I'm sure I can bring Angelus – Angel – back into the fold for you," Darla insisted eagerly, slipping into her demon face.

"Yeah, right!" William immediately said derisively. The young upstart then turned and said to him, "'Cause not sure if ya know, but she already tried that nearly a hundred years ago in China. Bloody hell, while I was killing the Slayer – Gramps was actually tryin' to save a couple of effin' missionaries! Plus, he ran off with a baby after Darla told 'im to either kill the whelp, or else she'd –"

"SPIKE, SHUT YOUR MOUTH!" Darla screamed, punching the callow youth viciously.

"Darla."

She immediately turned to face him, bowing her head. "Forgive me, Master, I didn't mean to speak out of turn –"

"Get out of my sight," he interrupted her coldly, extremely annoyed by her actions – and the fact she was displaying such weakness where Angel was concerned. He expected better from his own creation, after all. "You tread on _**very**_ thin ice right now. Thinner than any over the past four hundred years! Leave, and do not return until I send for you."

"As you command, Master." Darla bowed and left the dark cavern, her gait very stiff.

"Poor Grandmother. To love someone who used to love you..." Drusilla trailed off. "It's the saddest thing in the world, it is!"

"Not in my book, luv. Myself, I reckon that honor belongs to Darla thinkin' that the Catholic schoolgirl look still works on the blood bags! 'Cause this ain't the Seventies no more," William spoke up, that annoying smirk still plastered all over his face.

"Enough. Drusilla, go after Darla. Watch her carefully. And as for you, William?" The Master said softly, his gaze boring into the younger vampire's. "Go seek out your grandsire. If you think he can be redeemed from the effects of the curse, bring him before me. If he can't, eliminate him once and for all. I trust my instructions on this are clear enough for you?"

"Crystal, o Master," William nodded, as he smiled and briefly kissed Drusilla goodbye. "TTFN, then!" he called out, before vanishing into one of the side tunnels.

"TTFN?" the Master asked in confusion, looking around at William's sire for clarification.

"Ta-ta for now, Great-grandfather. It's what Tigger says whenever he leaves. Oh, that naughty Winnie the Pooh!" Drusilla said angrily, as she departed herself. "Silly old Bear! Tra-la-la, tra-la-la, Rum-tum-tiddle-um-tum!"

The Master was tempted to stake her, before the crazed Seer finally left his presence. { _I'm surrounded by fools and lunatics! Why, oh,_ _ **why**_ _did I awaken six months before the Harvest? My time could have been better spent gathering my strength in preparation for my release from this foul place!_ }

He pseudo-exhaled, quickly subduing the sudden fury. { _Well, too late to worry about that now – what's done is done. And as soon as Angel is dealt with, I'll be free to choose the Vessel for the ritual of the Harvest. It's unfortunate that Luke is now dust – still, Darla will be able to take his place easily enough. As long as she doesn't fail me again, of course!_ }

* * *

 **Outside Angel's basement apartment, Sunnydale**

 **A few hours later**

Spike had to admit it – he was more excited now than he had been since last summer, the night he and Drusilla had arrived in this cursed town. It hadn't taken long for him to track down where his grandsire had set up his digs; a few words to Willy and a c-note in the snitch's shirt pocket had quickly netted him the desired information.

Finally, the old man was here! And the plan for Angelus to help him get rid of that evil old geezer could begin –

Spike kicked down the door with a loud 'BANG!', and then strode into the apartment like he owned the place. "Angelus!" he shouted cheerfully. "Where are ya, mate?"

"Spike?" His grandsire looked astonished at his presence, and manner of arrival. "What are you doing here? I told Dru –"

"Yeah, yeah, already got that message. Still, you didn't honestly believe that we were gonna do that, did ya?" William the Bloody interrupted at once. Then he frowned, staring at Angel's face. "I'll be damned, you were hoping it would! 'Ere, what's happened to you? Come to think of it, I haven't seen ya in the killing fields fer decades –"

"Things change, Spike," Angel told him. "And these days, I'm not much for company."

"Izzat right? So level with me, mate. You're not – impotent thanks to that bloody soul, are you? 'Cuz yer granddad, he gave me orders to dust ya if that was the case! And I'd hate to have to do that ta family. Well, immediate family, anyways," Spike shrugged.

"What are you up to, Spike? I already know you want _**something**_ from me, or else we'd have started fighting the moment you came into my house. Am I right or what?" Angel asked, his eyes narrowing.

Spike chuckled. { _Same old Angelus, soul or otherwise!_ } "You always were the brains of the outfit, weren't you? The Whirlwind, I mean! I was the muscle, Dru was the info source, Darla gave the orders – but you! You were the one who was always two steps ahead of everyone else. The one who always had some sorta plan – to save his own arse, at least!"

"You still haven't answered my question, Spike. What do you want from me?" Angel asked again, straightening up.

"I want ya to help me kill that so-called bloody Master," Spike said, with a huge smile on his face. "Otherwise, we'll 'ave ourselves a right royal dust-up; right 'ere, right now. So, what's it gonna be?"

"Sorry, Spike. But I like not being ashes; trust me, I learned that lesson all the way back during 1760. Anything else I can help you with?" Angel replied without hesitation.

Spike snarled, immediately going into his demon face. "You're refusing ta help me?! You're my grandsire, man! My, my... Yoda!"

Angel shrugged. "Like I said before. Things change."

"Not between you 'n me! Not like this! Shite, I honestly can't believe it. You bloody _**coward!**_ " he snarled. "Ah, bugger this –"

Instinctively, Spike lunged towards the elder vampire, fists balled for the attack. He was aiming to pummel his opponent and maybe even stake him – but Angel caught him with an unexpected side kick to the ribs, and then his grandsire lashed out with a solid left hook that knocked him back and down to the floor.

Before Angel had the time to press his advantage, though, Spike agilely sprang to his feet, ready for more. "You been practising, mate?"

"Yeah." In a blur of sudden movement, his former mentor smashed him in the face in a double ax-handle strike, drawing blood as Spike failed to jerk his head to the side in time. Angel then drove his knee directly into Spike's sternum, before slamming a fist into his side. Another savage punch snapped Spike's head backwards as he fell to the ground, his grandsire quickly moving to stand next to and above him.

"Stay down, Spike. Get up again, and the only way you're leaving my house is in a Dust Buster," Angel said threateningly.

"Now, really, Angelus. Is that any way to act towards the children?"

Spike took advantage of the distraction to hook one of his legs around those of his grandsire, and trip him down to the floor. He nimbly rolled to the side to avoid the ponce's body crashing into his own, before he got up and looked towards the door.

"Dru? Darla? What the hell are you two doin' 'ere?" Spike demanded angrily.

"My question exactly," Angel said, after getting up himself. "After all, this is a private issue between me and Spike."

"Got that right, mate!" he agreed, staring at the undead blonde.

"Men," Darla said in disgust. "Alive or undead – everything's just some sort of pissing contest to you, isn't it? Grfff. Auggh!" she growled. "Spike, get over here! Or I'll stake you myself!"

"Yeah? And why should I?" he demanded belligerently. "Master gave me a job ta do, didn't he? And you interfering with that job? Won't end well fer you when I tell him that, I can promise ya!"

"Spare me the rhetoric and fake threats, _**William**_. You honestly thought I couldn't tell how you were planning to enlist Angelus's help in your mad plan to slay our Master?" Darla demanded, as his lower jaw fell down in dismay. "You're an impetuous young fool, Spike. You may _**think**_ you're the Big Bad, but the truth is – you're just a minnow swimming in a pool of sharks. Now take Drusilla and leave, while I'm still of a mind to let you do it. Or else I can finish the job Angelus started. You choose. _**Now!**_ "

Spike hesitated for a moment. But he almost instantly decided to err on the side of caution, as the last thing he wanted was for Darla and his grandsire to unite against him and reduce him to ashes. That was something which did not feature as part of his plans in any way, shape or form.

"C'mon, then, Dru. I feel like hitting the streets, seein' who we can find ta munch on. Howzat grab you, baby?" he asked, swaggering towards his sire.

"Oooh, Spoike! Yes, please!" Drusilla said eagerly, grabbing his hand and dragging him out the door-less doorway. Her prophetic pronouncements from earlier seemingly forgotten, she added, "I want something young, and fresh, and what smells delicious!"

"Whatever you want, luv. So let's see what we can discover out there, hmm?" he said, as Dru started dragging him up the stairs.

Still, despite his defiant and devil-may-care exterior, deep down – Spike couldn't help but worry over what exactly Darla was going to do, now that his plans were exposed.

* * *

 **Angel's basement apartment, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

Darla waited until she was sure that Spike and Drusilla were gone, before she sent her ensouled offspring a malignant glare. "I expected better from you, Angelus. Spike is and always has been little more than thick-headed lout, and the past five months have proven to me that he's nothing but a mistake – Drusilla's mistake. One I should have corrected all the way back in 1880, if not eighteen years later! But you? I _**made**_ you! I taught you everything you know –"

"The name's Angel now. And I beg to differ," he interrupted. "I've learned a _**lot**_ over the past century without you, Darla. And I wouldn't be so quick to blow my own trumpet that way, if I were you. Like, what you said just now – is that any way to act in front of the children? Sweetheart, I can tell you haven't been maintaining discipline very well in my absence. Time was Spike would have never _**dared**_ talk that way to you, and you know it!"

Darla merely raised an eyebrow. "He wouldn't have tried to take you on, either. I suppose the boy's finally growing up – for all the good that'll do him in the end. Because the Master will slay Spike as soon he regains his freedom, you mark my words about that!"

Angel shrugged. "And you don't exactly seem upset about it? Huh. You always did have quite the maternal instinct, didn't you?"

She snarled incoherently, but quickly brought herself back under control. "Well. Let's move on to why I'm here, shall we? I heard from Drusilla – during one of her rants – that you've found someone else to love. And we both know she's never wrong, so – care to fill me in on the details?"

"No. And you may as well spare me the upcoming threats, Darla – you can't do anything to me, apart from dusting me. And you won't do that; not while you're still hoping to get Angelus back," Angel shook his head.

"Don't be so sure, dear boy. The Master gave Spike specific orders – either bring you before him if you can resume your rightful place in his court, or simply kill you if that wasn't an option. And the young fool was too obsessed with his thoughts of betrayal to realize how he'd just been given a death sentence, by any other name – but I wasn't, once Dru told me what had happened."

"Huh. Spike's really pissed you off lately, hasn't he?" Angel smiled, and for a fleeting moment she could see Angelus surface to stare at her in amusement. "Some free advice for you, honey – don't underestimate him. Because underneath the posturing and smartass exterior... there's a lethal _**animal**_ in there. Restless, brutal, snarling, and just waiting to pounce. I've seen it. Trust me, Dru knew exactly what she was doing when she turned William that night – I have no doubts about that at all."

"You're entitled to your opinion, 'Angel'," she replied in disgust. "However wrong that opinion may be. So. You're here, now, on the eve of the Master's release from his prison. Why? You weren't seriously thinking of trying to stop it, were you?"

"Me? No," Angel shrugged.

"You lie badly, you lummox!" Darla suddenly roared, coming closer. "What exactly are you up to? You're smart enough not to go up against the Master personally; we both know that! He'd kill you, or have you killed, almost instantly. It's obvious you refused Spike's offer of an alliance against him as well; otherwise, you two wouldn't have been fighting when Dru and I got here! So I repeat. What. Are. You. Up. To?"

"None of your business, Darla. And this conversation is officially over. Now get out, before one of us ends up dust. I mean it," Angel warned her. Then he gestured down towards the floor, a short distance away. "Besides, I've got a front door to put back on its hinges. Unless you'd care to give me a hand with that?"

Growling unintelligibly and seething furiously, Darla turned around and swept out of the apartment.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **Later that day**

Wesley sighed in boredom. He honestly couldn't believe that there was so little for him to do around here, officially speaking!

As far as he'd been able to tell over the past few days, the majority of the students in this school had no idea that the library even existed. And those few that did, they didn't stay long – they came to either borrow or return the various textbooks or reading material, and then they swiftly left.

Where were the honors students swotting for their tests and exams? Where were the misfits and layabouts who wanted somewhere to hide, or who wanted to snog the opposite sex within the privacy of the stacks? Where were the impressionable minds which he could help mould for the better, whilst waiting for his Slayer to arrive in town?

Nowhere around here, that was certain.

So, over the past week or so, for want of anything else to do – Wesley had started reading the town newspaper. Both the recent issues of the _Sunnydale Press_ , and the older ones within what the colonials charmingly called the newspaper's 'morgue.' Digging into the history of Sunnydale, he had so far uncovered a steady stream of fairly odd occurrences –

"But Xander, it's traditional!" a ginger-haired girl insisted, as she and two dark-haired lads – young men, really – came in through the double doors of the library.

"I don't care, Will. I'm not having a party, or otherwise celebrating my birthday," one of the boys replied, looking around at his male companion. "Back me up here, bud?"

"He's got a point, Willow," the other teenager shrugged. "Don't wanna risk you-know-what happening, after all –"

"Excuse me!" Wesley spoke up sharply, attracting the attention of all three students. "But this is the school library, not a gossip center. If you're here to study, then by all means, avail yourselves of the facilities – but if you're here to talk about parties and what-not, please do so elsewhere! Is that clear?"

"Uh, yeah – but, but who are you? And where's Mrs. Winston?" the girl – Willow, if he had heard right – asked in confusion.

Wesley drew himself up to his full height, and grasped the lapels of his jacket. "My name is Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, young miss. I'm the new librarian," he said haughtily. "Mrs. Winston officially retired last week, and I'm her replacement. Now, I repeat – what is your purpose here?"

"Uh, we were just – no, actually, we better go," the Xander boy replied, keeping his eyes focused on the floor. "C'mon, guys, let's motor."

"Just a sec – uh, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce? If you're the new librarian – have you, uh, changed anything around here that we oughta know about? Like, like reorganized the shelving system, brought in anything new, that sort of thing?" the Willow girl asked, looking directly at him.

"As a matter of fact, I have brought quite a few tomes with me from England," Wesley remarked affably, somewhat glad to learn that at least _**one**_ student around here seemed to care about academic achievement. "The old books haven't been rearranged, though. Although that might change soon."

"Okay. I'll be by later so that I can, y'know, familiarize myself with any changes. Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't introduce myself! My name's Willow Rosenberg – I, I tutor Xander and Jesse here," Willow gestured to her male companions. "Later, Mr. Pryce!"

"Indeed. I look forward to it, Miss Rosenberg," Wesley said politely, if somewhat dismissively, as the teenage trio left.

"Americans," he then said condescendingly, before returning to his newspaper studies.

Less than five minutes later, though, the double doors were again shoved open as a – well, a beautiful young flower of womanhood came into his library. The chestnut-haired girl was remarkably attractive for a sixteen-year-old – Wesley suspected that in a few more years, she would have quite a few suitors lining up to ask for her hand in marriage –

"Can I help you?" Wesley asked politely, quickly getting his thoughts back in order.

"You're not Mrs. Winston," the girl frowned. "Are you the new librarian? I _**heard**_ there was someone new starting here earlier this week! Oh, wait, I'm Cordelia Chase! And you are?"

"Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Miss Chase. And yes, I'm the new librarian here," Wesley replied courteously. "Now, is there something I can help you with?"

"Yeah. But hey, did I mention that I like men with two last names?" the girl asked eagerly. "Welcome to Sunnydale, by the way!"

Immediately, Wesley felt his respect for the female teenager drop significantly. She was almost acting like a cheap slattern, to think – trying to play the seduction game at her age! "Thank you for your greetings, Miss Chase. Now, for the third and last time, can I help you with anything?"

The girl obviously had a modicum of brains, as she immediately became a lot more business-like. "Well, yeah. I'm looking for one of my classmates, his name's Xander Harris? I know he hangs out here sometimes, along with his loser friends, Willow and Jesse –"

"Ah. You mean Miss Rosenberg, I take it? Yes, she and her two companions were here, just a few minutes ago as a matter of fact," Wesley interrupted. "They left almost straightaway, though. As I pointed out, this is a library – and not a place for the children to come and gossip about their personal affairs."

"Oh. Right."

"Is there anything else I can help you with, Miss Chase?" Wesley asked, starting to feel impatient for the conversation to end.

The girl seemed to give him a thorough, assessing stare, before a bored look of dismissal appeared on her features. "No, I guess not, Mr. Windy Price-tag –"

"I beg your pardon? Young lady, the name is Mr. Wyndam-Pryce," he interrupted sternly.

"Whatever," she replied dismissively, now starting to look annoyed.

"And you _**will**_ refer to me correctly, or you will find yourself in trouble with this school's headmaster! Do I make myself clear?" Wes stated harshly.

"Headmaster? Who the heck even says that? Well, who says it around _**here**_ , anyway?" the girl sniffed. Then her tone hardened. "And maybe _**I**_ should make myself clear; the Chase family is the richest one in Sunnydale! So let's just say that Principal Flutie knows better than to annoy my father, if anyone on the school faculty starts complaining about my behavior!"

So saying, the bothersome chit turned around and swept majestically out the library doors, without giving him a chance to reply.

{ _Well, bollocks,_ } Wesley thought to himself irritably, before slowly making his way to his private office. { _That girl's going to be trouble with a capital T, I can already tell!_ }

* * *

 **Outside 17619 Whiteoak Drive, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

Cordelia took a deep breath as she got out of the limo, and quickly walked up the driveway to Xander's house. She was holding his birthday present in her hands, and – okay, she was feeling rather nervous, to be perfectly honest. Which, hey, she always was!

(Well, almost. Some things didn't count, depending on whether she'd repressed the memory of it from her conscious mind!)

Cordelia wasn't exactly sure _**why**_ she was feeling nervous, though. It couldn't be the fact that this was the first time she'd come to the Harris house in roughly eight years, could it?

{ _No – but it might be due to how you honestly don't know what'll happen, if the Dork tries to kiss you the moment you two lay eyes on one another. Can't help wondering which would make you happier – slapping him in the face, or kissing him right back?_ }

Stupid inner voice. Cordelia figured that if this kept up, she should visit someone like Willow's parents and ask their advice on how to make it stop!

{ _Sure, you go ahead and do that. See what that does to your reputation, once Nerd Girl tells everyone at school what you're up to. And don't think she wouldn't tell on you, the first moment you gave her a reason to do so. Willow threatened to bury you if you ever hurt the guy she loves, remember?_ } Snide  & Irritating voice asked, sounding amused.

Shut up, shut up, shut up! And I'm not planning to hurt him! There's absolutely no reason to assume that –

{ _Really? Not even if Xander's thinking thoughts that he shouldn't – like, say, putting a wedding ring on your finger roughly five years from now?_ }

Cordelia silently screamed at her own mind to shut the hell up yet again, before she finally reached the front door. Composing herself, she rang the doorbell once and waited for someone to open up.

"Hello-? Cordelia?" Xander's mom seemed very surprised to see her, as she peered out from behind the threshold. "My goodness, I haven't seen you in years! You've grown up so much, and – you've filled out very well, the boys must be chasing you all over Sunnydale! But, uh, what are you doing here?"

"Hi, Mrs. Harris," Cordelia said with a small grin, she liked honest compliments as much as the next girl. "And I just dropped by to give Xander his birthday present." She cocked her head slightly, frowning at what she could hear from inside the house – or, rather, what she _**couldn't**_ hear. "So, the party tonight isn't over already, is it? I mean, it's not even eight o'clock yet!"

Mrs. Harris sighed, gesturing for her to come in. "Actually, Xander insisted that he didn't want a party for his sixteenth birthday. And after he told us that he doesn't have any friends other than Jesse and Willow – and you, too, I suppose – his father and I decided to accept his wishes on the matter."

"But he's sixteen! I mean, _**everyone**_ has to have a sweet sixteen birthday party! It's, like, an unwritten rule!" Cordelia said in astonishment, as she followed the red-haired woman inside the house.

"I know, I know," Mrs. Harris nodded as they arrived in the living room. Cordelia quickly checked the décor out – wow, place hadn't changed at all since the last time she'd been here, apart from the new couch – and then she refocused on Xander's mom as the woman added, "But there's no point in throwing a party for someone who doesn't want it, you have to admit. And if that's what he wants –"

"No, wait – where is Xander? In his bedroom? I'll talk to the stupid Doofus right now, and make him understand –" Cordelia abruptly cut herself off, feeling uncharacteristically embarrassed by her behavior. "Oh! Sorry, Mrs. Harris, I-I didn't mean to call him names like that."

"No offense taken, sweetie," Xander's mom smiled at her. "Because I heard you call my son worse names when you two were little kids, and your father used to bring you here all the time. 'Doody-head' was one of your favorites, if I recall correctly?"

Her cheeks now almost pink with embarrassment, Cordelia held out the gift to Xander's mom and said, "Here, you can give this to him. I, I probably oughta go –"

"So soon? But you just got here!" Mrs. Harris shook her head. "No, I insist that you stay. And if you want to give your birthday gift to Xander in person, he's in the garage with his father – they're restoring that old '69 Shelby of his, I think."

"Really? Huh. I didn't know Xander was into cars," Cordelia said in confusion, before following the middle-aged woman towards the Harris garage.

"I don't think he is; or at least, he's not serious about them. But it's something they can do together, a father-son bonding thing ever since Tony got – better. I'm sure you do the equivalent with your mother, after all," Mrs. Harris tossed over her shoulder.

"Oh, right! And yeah, we do," Cordelia shrugged nonchalantly. Even if that wasn't as true as she would have liked, after that fiasco with Richard Anderson and his killer psychotic friends. Her mother had almost refused to believe it, back when she'd first heard the news, which had led to some friction –

"Right through there, dear," Mrs. Harris told her with a small smile, pointing at the door. She then yelled out, "Tony! Xander! Come out of the garage, right now!"

"Not now, Jess! We're right in the middle of something!" Xander's dad yelled back.

"Yeah, mom! I mean, this carburettor isn't gonna fix itself!" the Dumbass yelled out as well.

"Men," Mrs. Harris said to her with a hopeless smile, before opening the door. "Alexander LaVelle Harris, don't you dare be so rude! We have a visitor – Cordelia's here with your birthday present, and the least you can do is thank her in person for it!"

Cordelia heard a clanging noise as something fell to the ground, and smirking, she entered the garage to see the Dork – except he was dressed in grease-stained overalls, and mmm-mmm, looking totally non-dorkish and even kinda sexy – staring at her in surprise. "Cordy?"

She smiled politely – ignoring the unwelcome hormones suddenly surging throughout her body – and then said, "Yeah. And hi, Mr. Harris. It's been a long time, huh?"

Xander's dad stared at her, and then, slowly, the corner of his mouth curled up into a lopsided smile. "That it has, girl. That it has. And you sure have grown up a lot, I hafta admit. Even if it doesn't seem like all that long ago you were demanding for everyone to call you 'Princess Cordelia', whenever you and Xander would play together in the backyard –"

"Dad!" Xander cut in at once. Then he smiled as well, and she suddenly understood where the Dweeb had inherited that lopsided grin from. "Don't insult her, please. Nowadays Cordy is known as the one and only Queen C, and not some mere princess. And I betcha if she ever learns how to drive, she'll get the custom licence plates for everyone to know it, too!"

"Oh, you-!"

"Xander, behave!" Mrs. Harris interrupted her. Otherwise, she would have let loose at the damn douche bag, guns blazing. Xander's mom then said to her husband and son, "Like I said, we have a visitor. So stop whatever you're doing and get changed right now, understand?"

"Jess, if I do that, then the oil in the Shelby is gonna drain out and make a mess all over the floor," Mr. Harris grunted, as Cordelia restrained her natural instinct to jump back in distaste.

"Plus, all the work we've done over the past hour will be for nothing! No offense, Cor, but hey – since I had no idea you were even coming over tonight..." Xander added with a small shrug.

"No, that's fine. I mean, we can talk some other time, whatever. Here, happy birthday," Cordelia interrupted, reluctantly acknowledging that she had made a social faux pas before giving him his present. Even if it wasn't _**entirely**_ her fault for assuming that Xander would want to celebrate his birthday, just like every other guy his age!

Well, okay, every other _**normal**_ guy his age –

"Uh, thanks," he said, looking oddly embarrassed. "And I'd open it now, but uh, hands. Covered in grease. Wouldn't want to ruin whatever designer shirt you got me as a present, after all."

Cordelia briefly gaped at him. "How did you know-?"

"Well, gee, Cordy," Xander said, smirking again. "We both know there's no way in hell you'd ever get me anything in the comic book ouvre. Plus it's too large to be shoes, and a bit too small to be pants. Seriously, you thought I couldn't guess what you'd decide on once you entered shopping mode at the mall? Gimme a break!"

"Oh, I'll break something alright –" she growled, almost seething with annoyance.

"Oh-kay! That's enough," Mrs. Harris interjected again, even if she was smiling as she said that. "Xander, you wash your hands and get changed right now, you hear me? Cordelia, dear, you come with me to the kitchen. My son will join us as soon as he's presentable. Tony, you – well, you just keep going with whatever you're doing; I don't want a mess all over the floor!"

"Whatever you say, Jess," Mr. Harris nodded at his wife, before Xander's mom hustled her away from the garage.

* * *

 **Harris residence, Sunnydale**

 **A while later**

Cordelia couldn't help but smile as Xander escorted her out into the backyard; he was now wearing her birthday present, as well as the best pair of jeans he had – plus some Doc Martens that might just scrape by as being fashionably acceptable. { _Yay! Go me. I can actually turn one of the biggest losers of Sunnydale High into decent eye candy!_ }

"No offense, Cordy, but this shirt you got me? Totally not my style. Plus, the fabric's kinda itchy. So don't expect to see me wearing it at school anytime soon," he grumbled, which instantly sent her good mood plummeting.

"Damn it, Dorkus! What's _**wrong**_ with you?!" Cordelia semi-snarled at him. "I mean, how can you _**possibly**_ prefer wearing your Salvation Army shirts and crap like that in public? I actually put a lot of effort into choosing something that'll improve your image, but you just –"

"Whoa! Time out. 'Cause who said I even want that to happen?" Xander interrupted, finally looking her directly in the eye. "Maybe you've forgotten, Cor, but popularity for a guy like me? _**Not**_ a good idea. It's hard enough avoiding eye contact with everyone at school right now, as it is!"

"And yet, you're willing to look at me that way?" she asked, feeling confused.

"Well, you know what's what, and if the Oracle thing should happen – you know enough now to keep your mouth shut about it," he shrugged. "But like I was saying – the last thing I need is for everyone to discover my secret, before blabbing to their parents what I can do. What do you think the odds are the Men in Black will eventually show up in town, and then I'll have to run for it – before they disappear me into a prison cell for the rest of my life?"

"Seriously? You watch too many movies, Dimwit! Like that's ever gonna happen in real life!" Cordelia snorted, even if she privately admitted that Harris had a point about maintaining a low profile at school. Her friends _**would**_ try to get his 'advice' at every possible opportunity and then gossip about it, if they learned what he could do.

Bad enough how Harmony still talked about the disaster which had been her non-date with Brad Konig –

"If you were in my shoes, Cordy, would you wanna risk it happening to you? I think we both know the answer to that!" Xander shook his head. "And that reminds me; we never managed to finish our conversation in the school corridor yesterday, after gym class."

"Well, duh! Especially since Willow dragged me away to give me the shovel speech where you're concerned, and McNally took you to visit the school nurse. Huh – on the way there... did Stalker Boy do the exact same thing to you, with regards to me?" Cordelia grimaced for less than a moment.

"No, not really," Xander frowned. "Actually, it was more like – uh, Jesse gave us his blessing to be together, a-and to live happily ever after."

"WHAT?"

"Hey – I don't have any secrets from him, any more than I do from Willow," he shrugged. "That's why Jesse knows what Madam Devora said to us in her tent that day. Basically, he's worried that we're gonna die young like she said might happen – so Jesse decided he'd rather see you grow old with me, than end up dead by... well, whenever it is. Willow too, actually. No matter what I say to try to convince both of them that that's not gonna happen," Xander finished up, shaking his head.

"Right – no, wait, hang on!" Cordelia frowned. "What exactly are you saying? That I'm not the best thing that could ever possibly happen to you? That I'm not good enough for you to marry and have a family with?! Oh, you _**jerk!**_ " She scowled at him viciously.

"No, that's _**not**_ what I'm saying!" Harris scowled back, without a hint of apology or remorse.

{ _Grrrr!_ } "Then what _**are**_ you saying, Dumbass?"

He exhaled, loudly. "Nothing, apparently. Just keep in mind that, like I've said before, we live in two different worlds nowadays. And I know you, Cordy; if you could have, you'd have repressed all over again after what happened in that gym with Mr. Herrold." Dweeb Boy looked at her searchingly, scrunching up his nose a little. "You _**haven't**_ forgotten what really happened with Machida and those frat boys again, have you?"

"Well – no," she confessed miserably. "But I _**want**_ to! Damn it, Xander, things like that, that, that _**demon**_ shouldn't even exist! Not to mention those – things – that came in and killed Tom and Richard and the rest of them –"

"Vampires. Say it, Cor. They weren't hallucinations, they weren't gang members high on PCP, they weren't any other comforting label you might wanna use. They. Were. _**Vampires**_ ," Harris interrupted her forcefully, his eyes boring deep into her own. "I saw them that night. And so did you! And FYI, Willow, Jesse and I have been looking into that part of it over the past couple of months, but we still don't know much –"

"Stop! I _**don't**_ want to know! For God's sake, Harris, why can't you and your friends just leave it alone? Just ignore the weirdness and try to have a normal life?" she demanded hotly.

"Because around here, that's a sure-fire way to end up _**dead!**_ Cordelia, do you know how many of the kids we went to elementary school with have either died or mysteriously vanished? Nearly half of them! And like it or not, I'm not normal anymore. Haven't been since the day you walked out of Madam Devora's tent, and I ended up her – Oracle," Idiot Boy said distastefully.

Then he frowned, as if remembering something. "Or whatever it was that was speaking _**through**_ her, maybe –"

"Shut up! I already told you – I don't want to know about that crap!" she hissed at him. Cordelia then took a deep breath. "I just want to clear up one thing between us, Xander, and that's it. Y'know, when I – kissed you yesterday."

"Huh?" Again, cue the terminally clueless expression on the Big Dummy's face! "Uh, what's there to talk about? You were really upset and, y'know, emotional at the time. I mean, correct me if I'm wrong, but I figured what happened yesterday – that was just a, a-a one-time freak occurrence or whatever. Right?"

"Well, yeah, but –" Cordelia broke off, looking frustrated. "Oh, damn it – now you've gotten me all confused! I mean, yeah, it was totally unplanned and everything. And I'd have to be _**completely**_ crazy to ever want to kiss _**you**_ again! But you're making it sound as if it was – well, I dunno, something not even worth mentioning! And if I ever kiss a guy? It's worth a _**lot**_ more in terms of discussion than a simple 'what's there to talk about?'"

"Well, okay – but I still don't get what exactly you want me to say," Xander replied, looking more puzzled than ever. "I mean, I kinda doubt you wanna know how Jesse and Willow reacted to the sight of you kissing me, do you?"

"I already _**know**_ how they reacted, you moron! I was _**there**_ , remember?"

"My point exactly. And just so you know, I promised Jesse it would never happen again –"

"You what? _**Why?!**_ "

"What are you, completely ignorant of the guy code? Cordelia, you don't go after your best friend's girl, that's like totally –"

 _ **WHAP!**_

"OW!" Xander yelled, after she slapped him in the face. He then glared at her, "What the hell was that for?!"

"I. Am. _**Not**_. Jesse. McNally's. Girl!" Cordy screamed directly into his face. "Never have been, and never will be! You stupid _**asshole!**_ "

"Okay, fine! Good Godfrey Cambridge, Cordelia, but I swear – sometimes, you're freaking _**impossible**_ to deal with!"

Her eyes widened. "Oh, you did _**not**_ just say that! Because I am not!"

"Yes you are."

"I _**so**_ am not!"

"You so are!"

"Are not!"

"Are too!"

"Are not!"

"Are too, de too!"

"Stop that!" Infuriated by Xander's actions, Cordelia impulsively grabbed him by the hair and pulled. Hard. "Geez! What are you, six?"

She definitely wasn't expecting him to grab her by the hair as well. Nor for Harris to yank just as hard and say, "No, I'm sixteen! And you're only fifteen, until early next month. So, neener-neener on the whole maturity thing!"

"Oh, I'll show _**you**_ who's mature, you-! And we're talking skinned alive, dismembered, boiled in oil – mmpphh!" Cordelia's eyes widened, as her diatribe was abruptly cut off by a pair of Xander-shaped lips. "Mrrphhh!"

After a couple of moments the mrrmpph! sounds turned into, "Mmmm..." and her eyes closed as Cordelia quit wriggling to pull away from him. In fact, just the opposite – after they let go of each other's hair, grabbed each other tight and began to seriously suck face.

{ _Oh – oh, yeah, g-guh, that's just – ooooh, Xander Harris, you magnificent Dorkhead –_ }

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Not much to say other than I hope you liked it, and thanks as always to everyone reading, reviewing and sending feedback about how to improve the story. It's truly greatly appreciated!


	13. So, This Is Christmas

**Chapter Thirteen: So, This Is Christmas**

 **Somewhere on Wilkins Boulevard, Sunnydale**

 **December 24** **th** **, 1996**

* * *

Angel walked past the various shop windows at a brisk pace, taking in all the holiday cheer around him. He could hear a group of carolers singing ' _God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen_ ' as he approached a Santa Claus – who was ringing a bell, and collecting donations for the Salvation Army. A pedestrian dropped some coins into his pot, just as he was about to pass by.

"Merry Christmas!" the Santa said merrily, ringing his bell once more. "A merry Christmas to one and all!"

Angel paused, dropping a few coins in himself before hurrying away. He was already regretting his decision to take a walk around town on Christmas Eve.

Because it was times like this when his memories of the past truly haunted him. Memories of blood and death – there was the foolish Irish gambler named Daniel, that terrified servant woman named Margaret, the businessman whose two children had been slaughtered and made to look like they were asleep in their beds, there was –

Well, there were simply too many atrocities that Angelus had committed when 'twas the season, back in the day.

{ _Sometimes I can't help but wonder whether there really is such a thing as redemption,_ } Angel thought to himself, as he made his way home. { _Can I ever truly make amends for what I – for what Angelus has done?_ }

He didn't know the answer to that question. And as Angel arrived home in his basement apartment, he discovered that there was another question which he didn't know the answer to.

"Whistler? What are you doing here?"

"Well, I'm not here looking for a date to the Midwinter Ball," the Messenger for the Powers said grouchily. "What the hell's the matter with you? I mean, there's _**no**_ booze in this place at all?!"

"Well, like I told Spike the other night, I'm not much for visitors these days," Angel shrugged. "You want to drink some of the blood I've got in the fridge, help yourself. Otherwise, go buy your own beer."

"Again, you're annoying me. Tellin' ya, it's lucky the Powers are needing you to be their Champion here on this plane," Whistler replied, quickly opening and closing one of the cupboards with a disgusted look on his face. "Anyway, enough 'bout that. You've met with the family recently, right?"

"Yeah; Darla, Spike and Dru. And if you already knew that, why ask?" Angel suddenly felt suspicious. "Whistler, what's going on?"

The agent of balance came closer. "The Powers have been keeping a lot of stuff close to their vests since last summer – well, assuming they _**have**_ vests, kinda unsure about that. But like I told ya way back when, something happened to upset the applecart. Disrupt the balance. And way I heard it recently, it's your nutcase 'daughter' that's the focus point. Something about the forces of darkness seekin' to gain advantage and bring about the Apocalypse, that sort of thing."

"I don't understand," Angel frowned. "I mean, Drusilla isn't that powerful – plus, you know, she's completely insane. If it was the Master, okay, _**then**_ I'd be worried! But Dru? Or Darla, or Spike? I just don't see it. All three of them like this world too much to ever want to end it, my opinion."

"Yeah, well, the former call girl? Likes playing the Master's pet way too often for my taste – so I betcha Blondie would go along with it, if your grandpa told her to help him bring about Armageddon! And as for the other two? Don't underestimate how far they'd be willing to go if pushed too hard, pal!" Whistler stared at him accusingly. "Your evil alter ego taught 'em well, remember?"

"Yeah," Angel nodded uncomfortably. "But again, I find it really hard to believe that – especially about Spike. I mean, that _**he**_ of all people would go along with something that stupid. 'Cause I know him – Dru may have sired the guy, but I taught Spike the basics of just about everything he knows!"

"Yeah, well. Old dog unable to learn new tricks, doesn't exactly apply in this case," the Messenger griped. "And just so you know, there were plans in the pipeline for that guy. Powers were thinking of selecting Willy Boy as one of their Champions, few years down the road –"

"What?" Angel looked astonished, as he interrupted his mentor. "Spike? A Champion? But he's a soulless vampire! What are you –" Then he abruptly cut himself off, after figuring it out. "Oh, now I get it. He's gonna end up with a soul like me, isn't he?"

"NO! Never, never, never!" a female voice screamed from the doorway, and both Angel and Whistler turned to see Drusilla standing there. Her face was filled with murderous hatred, as she glared at the Messenger for the Powers. "Bad demon! Thinkin' you could take my precious Spoike away from me – like you took my Daddy! Bad, bad, bad, you are!"

"Hello to you too, Crazy Girl," Whistler rolled his eyes in annoyance.

Without warning, the Messenger morphed into his demon form – a humanoid shape with a blue head made of fire, with black ibex horns – and he said to her, "And in case you were thinkin' of offin' my tukus? I'll dust you first, no matter what kinda damage that does to the balance between Good and Evil. The Powers don't pay me enough to die for 'em, after all!"

"You get paid?" Angel asked incredulously, but both Whistler and Drusilla ignored him.

"You'll not succeed in doin' that," the prophetic vampiress proclaimed to the Messenger. "And you shan't get the chance to twist my Spoike around and turn him inside out and upside down, and make him bleed like beautiful poetry after goin' up against the Slayer!"

"He won't have to. I'll dust Spike myself if it becomes necessary, Dru," Angel told her warningly. "You as well, if it comes to that."

"No you won't, Angel-beast," Dru told him pityingly. "The Bright Lady what looks like maggots and smells like jasmine, she'll not let you do any o' that. Neither will her brothers and sisters!"

"You talking about the Powers, nutcase?" Whistler asked curiously, when he looked up in sudden alarm. "What the-?"

"What? Whistler, what is it?" Angel demanded, feeling concerned.

"There's some kinda pandemonium goin' on up in the Higher Planes, I dunno what sort though. Never felt anything like this before! I'll be back, Stink Guy – and as for you, Crazy Girl? You oughta take your old man's advice, and get outta town while you still can!" Without warning, Whistler abruptly vanished from sight.

Angel was subsequently astonished to witness Drusilla abruptly burst into gales of laughter, before she turned around and pranced out the front door. { _Wow. I really did drive her completely insane, didn't I?_ }

* * *

 **Apartment B of 523 Oak Park Street, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

Wesley looked around at his flat; or 'apartment' as the landlord called it. Well, either that or 'condo.' Really, the names which the locals around here came up with –

Well, whatever you wanted to call it, the place still didn't feel like home to him; not after so little time after initially moving in here. And since it was Christmas Eve, and Christmas was a time for family, the Watcher decided to phone his parents.

"Hello, mum," Wesley said warmly into the receiver, after making the international call.

"Hullo, Wesley. Oh, it's so good to hear from you!" the good woman said in reply, her voice crackling slightly all the way from England.

"Thank you, mum, you too. I called to wish you and Father a merry Christmas. Is he there?" Wesley asked, smiling.

"No, I'm sorry dear, but he's still at the office. He's getting ready for a trip of some sort, and Roger has a lot of things to get caught up on before he leaves," his mother answered apologetically.

"Oh. I see," Wesley replied, even though he really didn't. After all – who worked during Christmas Eve, for heaven's sake? "Well, please tell him that I called and wished him a happy Christmas when next you see him, then."

"I shall, Wesley, I promise. So, tell me, what's it like in California?"

"It's all very strange to me, I have to admit," Wesley said rather sheepishly. "I mean, not only do the people here drive on the wrong side of the road, and use odd words and phrases – elevator instead of lift, trunk instead of boot, even parking lot instead of car park – the weather here is just utterly ridiculous! I mean – whoever heard of sweating from the heat, on the day before Christmas?"

"You'll get used to it, dear," Wesley's mother said laughingly, before she sobered up. "You know, I still find it odd that your Slayer isn't physically there with you. When's the girl supposed to show up again?"

"After the New Year, apparently," Wesley told her. "According to my latest intelligence from the Council, both Miss Summers and her mother are scheduled to move into their new house on Revello Drive not long before the school holiday break ends. Which is all for the best, I suppose; it'll give them a chance to get settled in before I make formal contact with the Chosen One."

"I see. You know, I heard how the poor girl's parents have gotten a divorce recently, your father mentioned it in passing. So I hope you'll take that into account, when you two first meet?"

"Don't worry about it, mum," Wesley assured her. "I've studied the Slayer Handbook extensively, and I'll make sure everything goes smoothly between us."

"Oh, dear," Edna Wyndam-Pryce sighed, causing Wesley to frown.

What on earth could his mother be sounding so worried about?

* * *

 **Summers residence, Los Angeles**

 **The same time**

{ _Well, guess it's official,_ } Buffy thought glumly, as her mother excused herself and went outside for some fresh air – while her father stared down at the floor, looking ashamed of his recent rant. { _This Christmas_ _ **sucks**_ _. I just hope it won't be the last one we ever spend together as a family!_ }

* * *

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **A while later**

Spike wandered around the lair, looking and feeling utterly bored. Sure, it was the Christmas holidays 'n all, but that didn't mean he had to be stuck down 'ere while the blood bags roamed the streets up above! All those tasty Happy Meals on legs, just beggin' for it –

All right, so it probably wouldn't hurt to play the dutiful servant after the Master had heard that Darla had had to save him from Angelus – or Angel, as he called himself nowadays. Better to think of his grandsire as that, actually; that way, Spike could distance himself a little from the feelings of loathing and revulsion over what the old man had become.

A coward. A deserter. Spike had to admit it; he _**still**_ couldn't fathom how that bloody curse had messed up his former mentor so badly!

Spike also couldn't understand how it was that Darla hadn't accused him of wanting to kill the Master yet. What the heck was she waiting for? Proof of some sort? Screw that – the former whore's word would be good enough, once the Master got over his little snit and allowed her back into his court –

It had occurred to Spike to jump ship and leave Sunnydale, with or without Drusilla. But that would also be the actions of a coward, and he refused to do that – not yet, anyway. One didn't rise to where he had within the undead community without being willing to take risks, after all.

{ _Besides, there's the Harvest to consider,_ } Spike thought to himself restlessly. { _Might be the perfect opportunity to stab that ancient dickhead in the back, while he's waitin' to get free from his prison. Heh – depends on how much he lets his guard down, I s'pose._ }

"Spoike? Oh, darling, there you are!" Drusilla's voice was like music to his ears, as the British vamp turned around and saw his sire heading towards him. She was holding something behind her back –

"I've brought you something!" Drusilla said happily, as she brought a _**puppy**_ into view!

"You got me some mangy pooch? Dru, what the effin' hell did you bring that 'ere for?" Spike demanded in amazement.

"It's Christmas Eve, and every good boy deserves his present," Dru replied, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. The puppy started whining as his sire added, "Poor thing. She's an orphan, her owner died – without a fight. Do you like her, Spoike?"

"Like her?" Spike continued to look at Drusilla in amazement.

"I brought her 'specially for you... to cheer you up. It's Christmas, after all!" She raised the puppy up slightly. "And I've named her... Sunshine!"

"Sunshine?"

"Yes!" Drusilla offered the puppy to Spike. "Now, be a good boy and eat up!" Off his shocked and disgusted look, she waved the puppy around before saying, "Rrrrr, open up for mummy!"

"Are you completely-? No, sod that, almost forgot – you _**are**_ stark raving mad!" Spike pseudo-sighed before grabbing the tiny canine and twisting its neck, killing it instantly. "Sorry, Dru, but we vampires, we kill people. It's sort of our raison d'etre, remember? Not gonna drink some damn mutt, they taste bloody awful," Spike said –

– before Drusilla vamped out and she angrily slashed her claws across his face, grabbing the dead puppy as she did so. "Bad boy! No tea and cake for you today!" She then flounced out of the cavern without a single look backward.

"Ah, hell," Spike groaned, watching her leave.

"Trouble in Paradise?" the Master's amused voice then drew Spike's attention. The undead Englishman then saw the old monster curling his lips in amusement – obviously, the bloody git had witnessed everything!

"Well, William, I suggest you chase after her. You wouldn't want for your sire to be so upset during Christmas, I'm sure," the Master said dismissively, before turning his back to read one of those damn books he had.

{ _Enjoy your own bleedin' Christmas, mate. It's the last one you'll ever see, if I have anything ta do with it!_ }

* * *

 **4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

'Twas the night before Christmas, and all through the house – not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.

Well, apart from the one and only Cordelia Chase, of course.

She was constantly tossing and turning in bed, before she finally gave in and sat up, switching on her bedside lamp and running her fingers through her long, dark hair. { _What the_ _ **hell**_ _is wrong with me? It's Christmas Eve, for God's sake – so why can't I get to sleep?_ }

She knew it couldn't be because of the problems her parents were having in their marriage; her mom and dad had called a truce to the hostilities for the holidays, and both of them had actually paid attention when she'd said she hoped they could spend more time as a family this year. Heck, Daddy had even suggested they all go to New York for New Year's Eve next week, watch the ball drop in Times Square –

It would certainly beat watching the fireworks here in Sweatydale, after all.

So, not the parental units which was causing the insomnia. Couldn't be school-related, either; her Cordettes were all toeing the line nowadays, and not even the popular girls of the senior class – complete and utter bitches, most of them – were willing to mess around with her. Well, not anymore. So what did that leave?

{ _How about the fact that it's been three days since you kissed Xander Harris?_ } Snide  & Irritating voice suddenly spoke up inside her brain, for the first time in roughly seventy-two hours. { _After all, you running away from him like a_ _ **coward**_ _after abruptly coming to your senses? Might just be something of a mental distraction._ }

Dammit. Cordelia growled softly to herself. She was so _**not**_ a coward!

{ _Suuuuuuuure. You keep thinking that, dearie. Even though if it was anyone else, even or perhaps especially Willow? You would be sneering at them and calling them all sorts of names. Like coward. Chicken. Scaredy-cat, even._ }

I am _**not**_ scared of Xander Harris!

{ _Maybe not him exactly, yeah. But you're scared as hell of what you're feeling_ _ **for**_ _him, aren't you? Something powerful, whatever else it may be. So you're doomed. Like totally, I'd say,_ } Snide & Irritating voice replied in amusement, from the back of her mind.

Oh, shut up.

{ _Because I think I saw this plot in a teen romance movie once,_ } Snide & Irritating replied, with an annoying mental smirk. { _Now, how did that end...?_ }

I told you to shut up!

{ _Oh, yeah, that's right – the guy ended up getting caught between two girls who both wanted him, and eventually, he decided to choose his best friend since kindergarten. Now, who do you think that applies to in this situation – you or Willow?_ }

But Xander doesn't love Willow that way! He _**doesn't!**_

{ _Maybe not right now. But what do you think the odds are she'll make her play for him once she hears that you made out with the guy and then ran away, leaving him high and dry?_ }

It doesn't matter. Even if Willow, like, strips naked and literally throws herself at him – and ewww, on that visual! – the Dorkhead simply wouldn't take advantage of the offer. He loves Willow too much in the sister-like sort of way!

{ _Reaaaaaally. Because Xander Harris? Sixteen years old. Perpetually horny, just like every other guy his age. And they're_ _ **not**_ _blood related, even if the Dweeb tends to ignore that a lot. So, not too hard to do the math, is it?_ }

Auugh! Wait. Remember the Westermarck Effect? Children who spend a lot of time together when they're young, they become... desensitized to each other, and don't end up sexually attracted to one another later on in life. I dunno why that worked for Xander and not for Willow, but –

{ _But what? You spent just as much time around the Doofus as Willow did, at least before third grade. So why didn't_ _ **you**_ _become desensitized to the guy?_ }

Who says that I didn't? Just because we made out once –

{ _Twice, actually._ }

Oh, fine, twice! The point is, I'm not sexually attracted to Xander Harris.

{ _Who are you trying to kid? 'Cause elevated heart rate, dilated pupils, and practically took a bath in estrogen while you two were making out! Does all that sound like it equals the Dumbass simply doesn't do it for you? The way he does for Nerd Girl?_ }

Shut up! And I'm not jealous over the bond he shares with Willow! She isn't _**any**_ sort of competition against me!

{ _Right, right, because the concept of Willow and Xander making out doesn't drive you totally nuts just thinking about it. And it doesn't make you want to tear Willow's hair out. At all._ }

That's it. I've _**got**_ to see a shrink about making the voices in my head shut up, somehow!

{ _Go ahead. Who knows? Maybe Daddy will have you committed after he hears you have gross psychological problems, and the Dweeb can visit you at the Sunnydale County MHMR during the weekends. That's one way of making sure you don't end up Mrs. Cordelia Harris, isn't it?_ }

Growling to herself, Cordelia wrapped the pillow around her head to try to block out her own thoughts, her teeth gnashing with annoyance as she switched off the light and tried unsuccessfully to get some sleep.

* * *

 **6305 Westminster Place, Sunnydale**

 **December 25** **th** **, 1996**

Willow was worried.

Xander was here at her house, he had shown up early this morning for them to watch _A Charlie Brown Christmas_ together on TV; the same way he did every year. Unfortunately, Jesse couldn't be present today for their annual festivities – he was away with the rest of his family in Oxnard, it was his uncle's turn to host the gathering of the clan. But Willow was pretty sure that wasn't the reason why Xander was being ridiculously quiet –

Oy vey! Familiar images of Charlie Brown and the Peanuts gang flickered across the screen, before Snoopy appeared. And Xander didn't immediately do the Snoopy Dance along with his favorite dog since for _ever_?

"Okay, that's it!" Willow abruptly switched off the TV, causing Xander to look at her in surprise. "Mister, what's wrong with you? That's gotta be the first time in ten years you haven't automatically done the Snoopy Dance for me! What's going on?"

"Uh, sorry, Will. Guess I was kinda distracted?" So saying, her beloved jumped up and started doing an impromptu dance in the middle of the living room, before she sternly told him to knock it off.

"I'm serious, Xander. Yeah, you're distracted. But something's wrong with you, I can tell. So what is it?" Willow demanded.

"I – I can't tell you," Xander shook his head. "Seriously, Will, I can't! You, you'd just get upset."

"I'm already upset by the fact that something's bothering you, Xander. So spill, already!" she insisted.

"Yeah, but this will make you über-upset, and, and, not just sorta upset," the Goofhead continued to try to stall her.

"Xander! Stop stalling!" Willow tried her best not to shout, given that her parents were still asleep upstairs. Huh – it was kinda odd how her mom and dad weren't away somewhere the way they usually were at this time of year, especially since Hanukkah had come and gone weeks ago, but –

"Okay, fine," Xander abruptly slumped in defeat. She tried to not feel too self-satisfied as he semi-mumbled, "Uh, something sorta happened on my birthday."

"What?"

"Cordelia came around to my house with a birthday present that night, she assumed I was having a party, and I..."

"She what?" Willow suddenly developed a gnawing feeling of fear in the pit of her stomach, after he trailed off. "I mean – I thought you said you didn't want to celebrate your birthday?"

"I didn't, Cordy just showed up outta nowhere. And I dunno how it happened, Will, I swear I don't! I, I wasn't _**intending**_ for it to happen, but after we started fighting and the hair-pulling started and she slapped me for calling her Jesse's girl and everything else –" Xander started to babble.

"Xander! Stop. Just spit it out, okay? What did you do?" Willow interrupted, looking worried. "I mean – you didn't physically hurt Cordelia, did you? Like punch her in the face or something?"

"Or something," he mumbled, looking aside.

"XANDER!"

"Okay, fine. I kissed her. I still don't know why, but we were fighting like cats and dogs – and then I grabbed Cordy and landed a big wet one right on her lips," the guy confessed.

Then, to Willow's horror and heartbreak, Xander added, "And the worst part is, she kissed me back. She, she didn't push me away and call me some kinda pervert! We musta made out for at least two minutes before she let go of me and ran away from the house."

{ _And then what?_ } Willow asked herself, still feeling traumatized after learning that one of her worst nightmares had finally come to life. { _Did he go after her, or did she come back to him, or what?_ }

"Xander? Please tell me this story has some sorta happy ending. Like, did you chase after Cordelia and settle things between you, talk out what happened?" Willow asked without much hope in her voice.

"I, uh, no. I sorta just stood there in the backyard, my mouth hanging open and trying to figure out what the hell just happened – and by the time I was capable of thinking again, Cordy was long gone," he confessed.

"All right. What happened when you talked to her on the phone, later on?" Willow asked, still trying to fight off the overwhelming sense of loss she was feeling after dragging Xander's confession out of him. A part of her felt like it served her right, oddly enough; the Big Dummy had warned her that this would be über-upsetting –

"Talked to her on the phone?" Xander squinted at her in confusion. "Uh, Will, I didn't – I, I didn't talk to her on the phone yet?"

"Oh, God, Xander – you're _**hopeless**_ ," Willow grumbled. By this point, she had managed to regain a semblance of mental equilibrium as she added, "Don't you know anything about girls? Cordelia musta been waiting _**days**_ for you to contact her in order to get this craziness sorted out, but it simply never occurred to you to do that? What the heck's been going through your head since Saturday night, mister?"

"Honestly? Not a lot," Xander admitted looking embarrassed. "Other than how the heck I was gonna explain all this to you and Jesse."

Again, she simply couldn't help it – Willow rolled her eyes. "Xander, I swear, at this rate – I don't know _**how**_ you're ever going to propose to Cordelia, let alone marry her two and a half years after high school!"

"Hey! Where did that come from?! I mean, I never said that I was going to –"

"Oh, grow up and get over your insecurities!" Willow uncharacteristically snapped at him. Normally she wouldn't have said anything like that, of course – but at the moment? She was hurting, and she was angry, and she simply couldn't help lashing out at the Harris-shaped object of her affections.

Hey, teenager. She was _**supposed**_ to screw up and make mistakes, wasn't she?

"Insecurities?" Xander repeated, starting to look angry himself. "So what's that supposed to mean?"

"I know you're attracted to Cordelia, Xander, however much you're in denial about it. I know it, Jesse knows it, and deep down, even _**you**_ know it! Sure, personally, I can't understand what it is you see in her – apart from the obvious, of course – but she's your destiny, bottom line. Heck, after everything that's happened lately, even Cordelia herself has to know that –"

"Okay, can I interrupt ya here for a moment, Will? 'Cause I got something to say. And that is, screw the whole _**concept**_ of Destiny!" Xander hissed angrily, making her recoil in surprise.

He then added, "John Connor said it best – there is No Fate but that which we make for ourselves! Willow, I don't believe that I have no free will at all regarding what Madam Devora said would eventually happen, okay? I'm sorry if that upsets you, but that's the truth! And I make no apologies for it!"

"Even if that means you die alone in Africa, just a few years from now?"

"Again with the Africa thing? Okay, then here's an idea for you to chew on – what if I go visit my Uncle Rory out in Ojai, steal one of the pistols out of his gun cabinet, point it at my head and then pull the trigger? What do ya think _**that**_ is gonna do to your precious belief that I either die alone in Africa, or live happily ever after with Cordelia?" Xander demanded belligerently.

"But, but – you, you can't do that! Y-y-you can't kill yourself!" Willow spluttered in disbelief, staring at Xander with huge, incredulous eyes.

"Why not? Newsflash, but I can do whatever the hell I want! Free will, remember? Not saying I will do that, sure, or that I should – but I _**could**_. So don't be so annoyingly sure that Xander Harris only has two choices in life, okay? Cordelia, too, for that matter!"

"Uh, so, so – does that mean you're not planning to ask her to be your girlfriend, the next time you two talk?"

Willow didn't like the confused look that appeared on Xander's face, after he thought about the question for a few seconds. She also didn't like hearing him say, "I dunno. I mean, I honestly have no idea what to say to Queen C right now – I guess? I have no idea what she's thinking either. Kinda weird – but I don't know whether we're gonna kiss each other, or try to kill one another, the next time we meet up!"

"So, talk to her on the phone first," Willow suggested, her heart sinking all over again. { _That way, they can't kiss_ _ **or**_ _kill each other! Both of which sound equally totally revolting, if you ask me._ }

Xander nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Uh, just one thing..."

"What?"

He looked embarrassed. "I, ah, Will – I don't actually have Cordelia's phone number. Should I ask Jesse, do ya think? I mean, he's bound to have it, right?"

Willow groaned, doing a face-palm to try to hide her exasperation with this loveable-but-completely-retarded idiot. He obviously wasn't thinking what sort of effect hearing that would have on _**Jesse**_ , was he?

{ _I mean, honestly! It's times like this I gotta wonder what it is I actually_ _ **see**_ _in Xander,_ } she thought to herself in dismay, shaking her head as she got up to grab the local phone book directory from the nearby alcove. { _It's too bad I'm not gay – 'cause that would simple things up_ _ **so**_ _much!_ }

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Thanks as always to everyone who's done the reading and reviewing and feedback thing, and DonR - there's still some world-building to do for a few more chapters, before Buffy finally arrives in Sunnydale and things truly fall in line for the rest of the story.


	14. Party Games

**Chapter Fourteen: Party Games**

 **Private office at the Sunnydale Zoo, Sunnydale**

 **December 31** **st** **, 1996**

* * *

Dr. Weirick poured himself a drink – expensive, twenty-year-old Scotch – to celebrate his recent achievement. { _It's finally done. Well, almost! I've gotten approval to apply for the import permits from the Fish and Wildlife Service, anyway. Sure, it might take a while before I'm able to legally bring those hyenas into the country, depending on how fast the government takes to process my application, but –_ }

"Dr. Weirick?" one of his assistants poked her head in through his door. "Just wanted to let you know, the zoo's closed for the day – and we're all heading off to watch the evening's fireworks. I wanna get there early, make sure we find a good spot. Do you want to come with us?"

"Ah, no, thank you," Weirick smiled at the young woman absently. "I've still got a lot to do, after all."

The female zookeeper sighed. "Is it that hyena thing again? Honestly, Doctor, you're almost starting to get obsessed with that project! Seriously, it's New Year's Eve – so what is it that makes that breed of Crocuta crocuta brevirostris so important?"

{ _Damn. I obviously haven't been as careful as I thought, not if she's started asking questions this way,_ } Weirick thought to himself in chagrin. Quickly deciding on the best way to throw off his colleague's curiosity and half-formed suspicions, the zookeeper got up from behind his desk and said, "Nothing. And you're quite right, of course. It's New Year's Eve, and all that can wait until tomorrow. Tonight, it's time to party!"

"Well, that's more like it!" the woman nodded as Dr. Weirick joined her. "C'mon, let's go!"

* * *

 **Demon bar informally known as 'Squishers', Sunnydale**

 **Not long after sunset**

Spike strolled into the seedy-looking establishment, taking a good look around. There was loud music playing, and people – well, demons – were drinking heavily. Still, that wasn't exactly surprising – it was New Year's Eve, and some demons liked to party as much as the blood bags when it came to this particular night. Especially the types that had been born here in the States. Or hatched, whatever –

Spike made his way to the bar, and sat down on a stool. The bartender – who actually had a real, forked tongue – nodded and said, "Sssspike."

"Hullo, Dave. I'll 'ave the usual," Spike said, looking somewhat bored as he dug some money out of his pants pocket. "Business is boomin' tonight, 'ey?"

"Yesssss," the bartender semi-hissed. "Tonight isss New Year'sssss."

"Yeah, I know. Not so much for us vampires, though – reckon ya know how we prefer celebratin' during the Solstice, don'tcha?" Spike asked, before taking a big gulp of the booze. "Oy! Any chance ya can gimme a blood chaser to go with that Scotch? A big one?"

"Of courssssse," Dave replied obligingly. After he served the vampire, he said, "Do you want me to put thissss on your tab?"

"Yeah, why not?" Spike shrugged. "'Ere, Dave, anything happening tonight in the back room? Could do with some extra dosh ta help pay off what I owe ya this month, after all!"

"Yessss," Dave nodded. "The otherssss are already in there, if you wish to partissssipate."

"Right, then! Thanks for the drink, reckon I'll see ya later," the platinum-haired vampire grinned as he tossed an ironic salute to the barman and wandered off.

Once he walked in Spike automatically checked out the back room for traps, but there were none – just lots of shelves filled with liquor boxes, and the sound of voices. "Evening, all!"

"Spike," one of the demons – a floppy-eared one with folded, loosely attached skin named Clem – nodded back.

"Right then, lads, what's the game tonight?" Spike demanded, taking in the demons sitting at the table. Apart from Clem, there was one demon with way too many eyes, one with scaly skin and a bunch of tentacles that looked like dreadlocks, and another one with a green face and horns.

The green demon shrugged. "The same as always, Spike. You want in?"

"Yeah, mate. Why not?"

"You're a vampire," the many-eyed demon growled.

"Too right I am. You got a problem with that?" Spike sent him a hard look.

"Yeah, blood rat. I got a problem with that," the many-eyed demon glared at him, the prejudice and ingrained antipathy towards the undead clearly visible to all concerned.

Spike just reached down and pulled the demon up out of his chair, wanting to punch his lights out. He didn't, though; that was something which was against the demon code of conduct he had been brought up to follow. By Dru... and Angelus...

Spike just shoved the many-eyed demon out the open door, before locking it and sitting down in the now-empty seat and picking up the demon's cards. "Anyone else got a problem with me sittin' in on this game?"

Clem shrugged. "Not me. Well, as long as you can ante up."

The three demons all reached under their chairs, quickly producing a small kitten. They put the kittens in a basket on the table, ignoring the baby felines as they began to mew. Clem looked at Spike and said, "Well?"

The bleached-hair vamp shrugged. "So, who's gonna advance me a tiny tabby, get me started?"

The demons all groaned, before the scaly one reluctantly reached under the table and gave Spike a Siamese kitten. It said, "Now, are we gonna play poker or not?"

The game quickly got started. Just like a human poker tournament, there was gossip and drinking, plus constant bluffing and calling as the midnight hour crept closer and closer.

Finally, it came down to one winner-take-all pot. Spike looked at his cards, grinned, and put them down on the table. "Anyone able ta top that?"

Everyone groaned and threw down their cards, after seeing that the vampire had a Straight Flush: 4-5-6-7-8 of Clubs. There was some grumbling from the losers as Spike smiled and stood up, opening the lid of a basket and putting the kittens in. { _Hopefully, this li'l gift is gonna make Dru get over her snit with that puppy last week!_ }

The green demon growled, "You got real lucky tonight, Spike."

The scaly demon nodded. "Yeah. You cleaned us all out. You ask me, no one's _**that**_ lucky."

Clem looked at Spike distrustfully. "Yeah, he's right. Man, I'm starting to think you cheated, too."

Spike looked completely affronted. "Me? A cheater? Bloody hell! He's got X-ray vision!" he exclaimed, pointing to the scaly demon.

"I'm not using it," the scaly demon replied, somewhat defensively.

Clem stood up angrily. " _ **We're**_ not the ones who've been cheating at cards!"

Spike looked at him, or more specifically, at the floppy-eared demon's arm. An Ace of Spades was stuck in the folds of skin. Looking embarrassed, Clem pulled it free as the others started to glower at him.

"I-I-I had no idea that was there. Otherwise, I'd have gotten rid of it before tonight's game," Clem said, somewhat insincerely.

"And we're s'posed ta believe ya? Pull the other one, mate!" Spike snorted, before looking around at the others. "So, what's the going rate on exchanging kittens for cash?"

"You want us to give you money, after cheating at kitten poker?" the scaly demon demanded.

The green demon shook its head. "Leave your winnings and go, Spike. Otherwise, things could get ugly."

"That the way it is, then? You're a bunch o' sore losers who can't stand seeing a _**vampire**_ beat you at cards?" Spike demanded, sneeringly.

"Hey, guys – now, now hang on a minute! I mean, we're not gonna fight about this, are we? 'Cause that's, that's totally against the demon code of conduct!" Clem yelped, getting up out of his seat and heading towards the door.

Spike instantly dismissed him as a potential threat, focusing on the green demon and the scaly demon. { _The hell with that bloody code o' conduct!_ } Then Spike offered them one of his trademark smirks. "What's-a matter then, lads? Thought you wanted ta get yer tabbies back? Well –"

With that, he slipped on his game face; fangs, ridges, leer and all. "Here we are now..."

Spike immediately punched both demons hard and fast, sending them to the floor as the brawl got started.

"Entertain us!"

Clem quickly exited the back room, only to hear the bar patrons all shouting "HAPPY NEW YEAR!" – and then one of the female demons gave him a quick, hard kiss on the mouth, as the New Year's celebrations got started in earnest.

Back at the site of the poker game, Spike was still celebrating the birth of 1997 in his own _**unique**_ way –

* * *

 **1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale**

 **January 4** **th** **, 1997**

As the delivery men started to unload their family belongings off the truck, Buffy looked around at her new home.

The house was a two-story, American Craftsman style residence, with a big basement; she'd inspected it earlier. The laundry facilities were down there – plus the hot water tank located along the back wall, and a flight of stairs against the wall to the right which led upstairs. The stairs to the basement were entered from the kitchen, oddly enough –

{ _Huh – I wonder what the architect was smoking, when he designed this place!_ }

The main floor was occupied by a foyer that led into the hallway. Off of which, facing away from the street, the dining room opened up on the right and the living room on the left. A sitting room was located at the end of the hallway. The kitchen lay beyond the dining room, offering access to both the sitting room and the rear porch.

Which was a good thing, as far as Buffy was concerned – they could open the windows and let some fresh air into the kitchen, whenever they needed to. Her cooking skills weren't exactly the greatest, or so she'd been told –

A short flight of steps led from the back porch into the backyard. And a staircase led from the foyer of the house to the upper floor of the residence. Buffy liked that; if she needed to get upstairs in a hurry, she didn't have to detour around anything.

The second floor contained three bedrooms and one bathroom; the master bedroom, and two others. Buffy already knew her mom was going to take the big bedroom; luckily, she had a choice of which room would become her bedroom, and which one would be used for storage space. Two gables projected from the roof, one over each of the picture windows.

There was even a small attic, but Buffy hadn't gone in there; the place looked dusty and full of mildew, eww!

From the outside, a wide concrete sidewalk led from the curb through the middle of the front yard, past palm trees and other trees and through a gap in a low hedge that fronted the porch, to a short flight of steps that led up to the front door of the house. On either side of which were picture windows flanked by tall, narrower windows. The porch, spanning the entire width of the house, was overhung by part of the residence's roof – which was supported by four pillars, the two beside the steps having brick pedestals.

Which was another good thing, in Buffy's view – quakes were a common occurrence in this part of southern California, and she didn't want her roof falling down on top of her!

There was a driveway on the right hand side which passed alongside the house to the backyard. No garage, unfortunately. The backyard itself was fairly large, and had a rear fence and a gate which opened into a nearby alley.

Perfect for kids to play in, according to the real estate agent who'd shown them around not long ago. Too bad she didn't have any younger siblings; doubtless, they'd have loved horsing around back there!

Buffy sighed and said to her mom, "Do you think we oughta offer to help take in the furniture and stuff?" whilst gesturing to the busy delivery men.

"No, dear, just – let these gentlemen do their jobs. We'd simply get in the way, I'm sure," Joyce said quickly. Gesturing for her daughter to move back as two of the delivery guys carried in the new couch, the former Mrs. Summers said, "And just so you know, I've got a surprise for you a bit later on."

{ _A surprise?_ } Buffy asked herself, instantly feeling alarmed. { _Oh, I don't like surprises! These days, any kind of surprise is usually a_ _ **bad**_ _one!_ }

Luckily, her fears remained hidden as the moving company employees finally unloaded the truck completely, and took everything inside. Joyce directed those guys to set up everything the way she wanted it, including taking the beds upstairs and setting up the fridge in its alcove – and even putting the coat rack in exactly the right spot! Buffy grew more and more impatient until everything was more or less in place, and the delivery men left. "Okay, mom, what's the surprise?"

"Buffy... I know things haven't been easy since you came back from Las Vegas. I mean, Christmas was ruined, and you didn't appear to be in the mood for celebrating New Year's Eve a few nights ago – not that I could blame you for that," Joyce said, before exhaling loudly. "Sweetheart, I'll admit that life hasn't been – good – for quite a long time, now. Your father and I aren't together anymore –"

{ _For now,_ } Buffy immediately thought to herself stubbornly, unwilling to give up on that dream yet. She was counting the days until May, after all!

"– and even though that's not in any way your fault, Hank did mention to me how you were thinking it was – that night you two came back from Nevada," her mom continued on. "So, please, try to think of it this way; this house, this town, this life – it's a brand new start for both of us. And to commemorate that new start, I got you – this."

She brought out a small gift-wrapped package, and Buffy smiled at her mother as she started ripping the paper apart. "Mom! You shouldn't have. And gee, I always wanted –"

The Slayer paused, as she examined the present closely. "– a tiny pink stuffed pig," she said in surprise.

"Yes, I know you're almost sixteen now, but I also know how much you liked that sort of thing when you were younger. Anyway, I just thought it might be good for you to have a symbol of how much I still care about you, and love you," the middle-aged woman smiled at her.

"Thanks, mom," Buffy couldn't help smiling again. And it was true enough, as a little girl she used to adore plushie farm animals; especially goats and pigs. "And I love the gift. I think I'll call him – Mister Gordo."

"Gordo? Doesn't that mean, uh, 'fat' in Spanish?" Joyce asked quizzically.

"Yeah, but he's so plump and adorable, the name just sorta fits! And like I said, I love the gift," Buffy gave her mother a quick hug, but careful not to squeeze too hard. Slayer strength and all that.

"Thank you, dear, I'm glad you like it. Well, I suppose we better get busy putting everything away," her mom gestured around to all the boxes. "All these things aren't going to unpack themselves, you know."

"Yeah. Guess it's too bad we don't know anyone yet, around here. We could get them to come over and help," the Chosen One commented, as she grabbed the nearest box of kitchen supplies. "Not to mention have a housewarming party!"

"Well, your birthday is coming up soon. Maybe we can have a party for you then, instead," her mother shrugged.

{ _Yeah, right,_ } Buffy mentally snorted to herself, even though she didn't say anything in order to spare the parental unit's feelings. { _Mom, have you totally forgotten what it's like to be my age? Even if I do make some new friends by then, a birthday party with only two or three guests in attendance? Lame-o!_ }

"Actually, mom – I'd rather just go to the ice show with Dad, same way we do every year," Buffy said glibly, coming up with a valid excuse on the fly. "I mean, kinda hard to throw a good party when you don't know who the cool crowd at school is yet, right?"

"Oh. Right. Well, whatever you wish, dear," Joyce said absently, picking up a box before putting it down again with a frown. "Now, where _**did**_ I put that blender...?"

{ _Yup, that's my mom. Total party animal,_ } Buffy thought to herself in amusement, before she started lugging stuff around in her brand new home.

* * *

 **4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

 **January 8** **th** **, 1997**

While Darla was killing a hapless young man within the empty halls of Sunnydale High, Xander was brooding and definitely _**not**_ enjoying himself at Cordelia's sixteenth birthday party.

To be honest, he hadn't even wanted to attend this particular shindig. There were a number of reasons why; including – and especially – the fact that he wasn't on friendly terms with any of the guests here tonight. The popular crowd from school were pointedly ignoring him; and neither Jesse nor Willow had been invited to tonight's festivities. Under different circumstances, he would have simply given his birthday gift to Cordelia and quickly left the house –

Only problem was, his parents back home.

Xander knew his mom and dad were definitely taking more of an interest in his life nowadays, ever since the old man had given up the booze and his home life had dramatically improved. Not to mention his sixteenth birthday last month; and the role Cordy had played in getting the 'rents to understand how he only had two, possibly three friends in the whole world.

Given the whole Oracle thing, it was almost enough for Xander to wish that his mother and father were still ignoring him the way they used to, before last summer!

Anyway, his parents had insisted he attend Cordelia's birthday after receiving the invite from Queen C's dad. Hell, they had even given him some money in order to buy her a decent present! Well, decent by his family's standards, anyway. Knowing Cordy and her expensive tastes, she'd probably turn her nose up at the gift and just throw it into a corner of her room in disgust, for Lupe to pick it up and put it into the trash later on –

{ _Oh, sweet mamalooshin. I_ _ **am**_ _being kinda bitter tonight, aren't I?_ } Xander asked himself ruefully. { _I mean, geez louise; I already knew how Cordy was gonna say that us kissing in my backyard was a big mistake, after Willow called her up and arranged that little summit meeting. But sure as hell, I_ _ **definitely**_ _wasn't expecting to feel so broken up about it afterwards!_ }

It had been kinda confusing, too, he had to admit. Xander knew he wasn't the smartest guy in Sunnydale, but he also knew (or thought he knew) Cordelia as well as he knew Willow and Jesse. In his book, she was the richest girl in town who was blunt, tactless, opinionated, one heck of a good kisser – and that was all. When did feelings for her start to get in the way of the neat little pigeonhole he had created for that girl?

Wait a minute. He had _**feelings**_ for Cordelia? As in, Cordelia Chase?

{ _Yup. Took ya long enough to figure it out, huh?_ } that snarky and annoying voice replied, from the back of his head. { _Maybe those people who gave you that special needs test back when you were seven were wrong, after all. Maybe you_ _ **are**_ _mentally challenged, as well as slow to understand some things like math and spatial relations._ }

Hey! I am _**not!**_

{ _Really? Well, then, you tell me why it's taken this long to realize that Cordy isn't the total bitca you used to think she was, before last summer,_ } Snarky  & Annoying voice replied snippily.

Uh... well, we've not exactly spent all that much time around one another?

{ _Oh, please! Midsummer's Day. The first day of sophomore year – both at school, and later on at her house. That night in the snake-a-licious frat house. The day she first kissed you. The night you first kissed her. So that argument ain't gonna cut it, I'm thinking._ }

Aw, shaddup! I mean, it's _**Cordelia**_ for crying out loud. We've been fighting since the third grade!

{ _Yeah, when you spilled that milkshake all over her dress and she decked you for it. So, whose fault is that?_ }

Well, it's not just _**my**_ fault, that's for damn sure! Cordy broke my nose that day –

{ _Sure, sure. Heck, everyone knows that. But ever wondered how, if you'd been a little bit more coordinated back then, you and her might have become an item long before now?_ }

What?

{ _I mean, if you'd managed to remain friends instead of becoming enemies, then you and Queen C might have discovered how you like playing tonsil hockey together_ _ **years**_ _ago._ }

Never woulda happened! I wouldn't have gone after my best friend's girl that way!

{ _Except she's_ _ **not**_ _Jesse's girl, and she never has been,_ } Snarky  & Annoying voice pointed out way too cheerfully. { _And here I thought you'd finally learned that lesson, after Cordy_ _ **literally**_ _slapped it into you._ }

Okay, fine! Xander glumly acknowledged to himself. Maybe – just maybe – Cordelia and I might have started with the making out long before now, if all that had happened differently. But for damn sure, my friendships with Willow and Jesse wouldn't have survived it. And I'd choose friendship over tawdry teen lust any day of the week!

{ _Oh, friendship, schmendship,_ } Snarky  & Annoying voice sounded remarkably like Jerry Seinfeld for a moment. { _Besides. Who's to say Jesse and Will wouldn't have eventually come around? They're both pushing you hard enough in Cordelia's direction nowadays, you hafta admit._ }

Well, that's only on account of they're both terrified that I'm gonna die if I don't marry her, and all the rest of that crap Madam Devora said would happen!

{ _True, that. But still, what difference does it make? Queen C's damn hot, you have to admit. Fetish fuel fantasy material._ }

It makes all the difference in the world, God damn it! If I ever get together with Cordelia freaking Chase, it has to be for the _**right**_ reasons! And hey! Stop fantasising about her that way!

{ _After the way she kissed you? Dream on, bud. Even if everything Fortune-teller Lady said was complete bullshit, you're_ _ **never**_ _gonna forget your first kiss from that girl. Hell, it wouldn't surprise me if by the time you're totally old and wrinkly, just thinking about Cordelia will still be enough to get it up for you! And that's assuming you don't marry her after high school, of course._ }

That's enough outta you! Xander mentally snarled. No more thinking about marrying Cordy! Not after she made it _**totally**_ clear that kissing me was just a humongous mistake!

{ _Well, could be she'll change her mind, eventually,_ } Snarky  & Annoying voice somehow gave the impression of smirking amusement. { _I mean, high school ends June '99 – and two and a half years later, that's January 2002. Cordelia's twenty-first birthday, and old enough to get married in all fifty states. Old enough to drink, too, come to think of it. So, maybe you and Queen C will get totally smashed during her birthday party that night – and decide to elope to Las Vegas?_ }

Xander couldn't help shuddering at the very concept. Are you freaking kidding me? A drunken Vegas wedding? Not only is that tacky as hell, but Cordy's father would _**kill**_ me afterwards! And her mother would cheerfully rip it off and shove it up my ass!

{ _Oooh, nasty visual. But tell me getting laid by that girl after saying "I do!" wouldn't be totally worth it._ }

No thanks. I'd like to live long enough to have kids one day!

{ _Well, if Cordelia's gonna be their mother, you can bet the family jewels that they're gonna be smart_ _ **and**_ _beautiful. Ditto the grandchildren and great-grandchildren, which a certain black lady happened to mention once._ }

Will you shut up about that? I get enough of that crap from Willow and Jesse! I mean geez, does it sound like I'm even remotely ready for something that huge? That grown-up? Do you think Cordy is, either?

{ _Well, you know what Uncle Rory always says: 'the years pass quickly, kid.' Might be worthwhile keeping something like that in mind, if Tact Girl eventually figures out you're the one she really wants. Unlikely as that sounds right now, granted._ }

Xander blew a mental raspberry at Snarky & Annoying voice, and started surveying the party from his spot near the right hand corner of the room. And not a moment too soon –

Tor, Heidi, Kyle and Rhonda were making their way towards him.

Xander briefly thought about trying to run for it, but quickly abandoned that idea. Showing weakness in front of those four bullies was the equivalent of giving himself a shallow cut with a razor blade, and then sticking his arm into a tank full of piranhas. Totally suicidal.

Oh, it was pretty doubtful Tor and Kyle would do anything here and now, but soon enough –

"Enjoying the party, Harris?" Kyle sneered.

"No," Xander replied simply, refusing to even look at him.

"Whatcha doing here all alone, Xander? It's supposed to be a party, shouldn't you be mingling with the other guests?" Rhonda sniggered briefly. "Oh, yeah, I almost forgot. None of them want to even be near you! Heard more than one person talking about the 'Harris trash in the corner' tonight, after all."

"Yeah. Doesn't surprise me. But then, I'm not the one here pretending to be something I'm not," Xander replied, not looking at her either.

"Meaning?" Tor asked challengingly.

Xander abruptly lifted his head and stared Hauer right in the eye. "Only reason I'm here is 'cause Mr. Chase personally invited me. Probably still grateful that I saved his daughter's life few months back. But why are you here, Tor? Or Heidi, or Kyle, or Rhonda? You think any of Cordy's so-called friends like you? That they actually want you here? You think they're not sayin' worse things about you and your posse behind your backs, than they are about me? You're an idiot if you do. And one thing I'm sure of, it's the fact that you're not an idiot."

"You seem just awful sure 'bout that, Xan," Heidi replied, her eyes narrowing. "Care to gimme a for-instance?"

Xander nodded towards the centre of the room. "Guests bad-mouthing you and yours? Harmony, for sure. Gwen and Joy, probably. Aura, can't be certain; her family's nouveau-rich, after all. She might remember what it's like to be an ordinary person, and not an intolerant harpy like the rest of the Cordettes."

"Cordettes, huh? Wonder what they'll think after hearing the nickname you came up with for them, Harris?" Kyle sneered again.

Xander just smiled. "Kyle, you think I actually give a damn about whatever Cordelia's friends think? Then you really were dropped on your head once too often, when we were little kids."

Infuriated, DuFours started to step forward – but Rhonda quickly grabbed hold of his arm. "Not here, hon," she hissed at him. "Too many witnesses. Especially Mr. Chase over there, see?"

"Speaking of which, I gotta motor," Xander said, pushing himself off of the wall and stepping around the pack of bullies. "Need to have myself a conversation with Cordy's dad."

"Mind if I ask what that conversation's gonna be about, Xan?" Tor asked, with a deceptively lazy tone.

Xander again locked his brown eyes with Tor's blue ones. Then he said, "You don't think I'm gonna be talkin' about you and your friends with Mr. Chase, do ya Tor?"

Hauer slowly shook his head. "Naw. I don't."

His girlfriend abruptly smirked at him. "Well, then, lemme wish ya good luck asking permission to date his daughter, Xan!" Without waiting for a reply, Heidi grabbed her boyfriend's arm and dragged him away into the crowd. Scowling, Kyle and Rhonda quickly followed them.

Shaking his head, Xander quickly sought out Cordelia's dad and quietly asked for a private word with the man. Looking surprised, the husband and father nodded and told him to go wait on one of the nearby balconies; that he'd be joining Xander there in a few minutes.

Xander nodded and left. He would have preferred somewhere more private, like the library where he and Cordy's father had talked last time; but as one of the hosts of the party, Mr. Chase couldn't afford to disappear that way for too long. It wouldn't be – seemly.

It pained Xander greatly to realize that he was now able to think of the appearances that way. Obviously, he'd been hanging around Cordelia long enough for stuff like that to have sunk in, somehow. Damn it.

"All right, Alexander, what's this all about? And please, make it snappy; we've got a birthday celebration to get back to," Mr. Chase said impatiently, before Xander turned to look at him.

"Couple things, sir. One, my name is Xander – and I'd appreciate it if you started using it," he said, before locking eyes with the older man. "And two, why'd you invite me here tonight? 'Cause none of these people are my friends. Not even Cordelia."

He could easily see the mild surprise as Cordelia's father said, "Hrmm. And here I thought you were the only one my little girl really had her heart set on attending tonight –"

"If that's true, kinda weird how Cordy hasn't said even one word to me so far," Xander interrupted, sounding a lot harsher about that than he'd been intending to be.

Mr. Chase sighed. "Yes, good point. Her mother has kept her busy, saying hello to all the guests – apart from you. I don't think it's any secret Julia doesn't like you, Alexa – sorry, Xander," he shrugged, before shaking his head. "My apologies, son – but I honestly don't think I'll ever be able to call you that name. It simply doesn't seem to fit you, in my opinion."

"So what does fit, Mr. Chase? I mean, seeing that the last time we talked, you accused me of wanting hush money," Xander said, almost without meaning to. Hesitating for less than a moment, he then decided to plunge on and say, "You thought I was trying to blackmail you about something?"

Mr. Chase seemed to look him over carefully. "So, you weren't?"

Xander shook his head at once. "Not sure what your daughter's told you about what I can do, sir –"

"Not a darn thing, actually. So, you've discussed this with her?"

"Nope," Xander shook his head again, still maintaining eye contact with the older man. It was risky, but nonetheless he still did it before saying, "Look, Mr. Chase, I don't know whatever it is you think I know. Whether you believe it or not, whenever my eyes change color and I – say things – I can never remember what it is I say afterwards."

"Really?" Mr. Chase asked musingly, looking as if he was trying to believe that; but not succeeding too well.

"Yeah, really. Sure, I kinda figured out you're into something illegal, but whatever it is you've done? Sir, I don't know what it is – and I honestly don't _**want**_ to know, either. Guess what I'm really trying to say... is that if you're trying to bribe me to keep quiet about what you think I know, by inviting me to Cordelia's birthday and trying to push the two of us together? No point. Seriously –" Xander started to say.

"WHAT?!"

Both he and Mr. Chase turned around, to see a red-faced and infuriated-looking Cordelia glaring at them both. And personally, he'd never seen Queen C look so angry before.

Never, ever. Not even that long-ago day she'd broken his nose for needlessly ruining her formal dress.

{ _Oh,_ _ **crap**_ _–_ }

* * *

 **Chase residence balcony, Sunnydale**

 **A moment later**

Cordelia was feeling utterly livid. Infuriated. Pissed off –

First of all, Mother had been running her ragged tonight instead of letting her relax and enjoy the party. Plus, it hadn't taken long to figure out how the parental unit was deliberately keeping her away from one corner of the room, where the Dweeb was sulking alone. She honestly didn't get it – _**why**_ did her mother dislike Xander so much?

It couldn't be just because the Harris family wasn't rich and members of the Sunnydale Stables and Country Club, could it? Surely the woman who had given birth to her couldn't be _**that**_ shallow and snobbish? Personally, Cordelia doubted it, especially with the way Daddy was friends with Mr. Harris –

But that was a question for another day. She'd finally had enough and given her mother the slip, looking to find the Dork and apologize for her – somewhat rude – behavior. But he'd disappeared from the corner he'd staked out for himself. Cordelia had almost started panicking at that point – surely the Doofus wouldn't have just left without saying goodbye to her? That would have been totally _**beyond**_ tasteless and offensive!

Fortunately, one of the guests – Heidi Barrie, of all people – had come over and mentioned that Loser Boy was talking with her father on a nearby balcony. And when she'd haughtily asked why she'd even be interested in where Xander Harris was, the irritating blonde had merely smirked and said "Good luck!" before melting back into the crowd.

Puzzled, Cordelia had headed off for the balcony in question, arriving just in time to hear the damned schmuck say something like _**that!**_

"WHAT?" she hissed again, glaring both at Daddy and the _**jerk**_ he'd been talking to. "Xander, what are you talking about?! What do you – what the hell do you mean, I've been some sort of _**bribe?!**_ "

"Uh, you'd need to talk to your dad about that one, Cor, not me. 'Cause I didn't do it, and I wasn't there, and you kaint prove nothin' no-how," the lamer babbled nervously, slowly inching backwards.

"Oh, spare me, you idiot! Well, Daddy?" Cordelia focused her glare on her father. "What have _**you**_ got to say for yourself?"

"That I made a serious mistake about Alexander's intentions a few months ago," her dad shrugged, and out of the corner of one eye, she saw Harris roll his eyes at the use of his full name. "Still, having said that, sweetheart – this young man is honest, forthright and capable. And I've known _**that**_ since the day he saved your life from those frat boys, and the crazed gang members they'd gotten involved with! So with regards to a father's stamp of approval, my opinion of him hasn't changed, despite what Alexander just told me in private; you could definitely do a lot worse than him as your boyfriend," he said calmly.

"Mother would have an absolute _**cow**_ if she heard you say that, Daddy. More like a complete herd," Cordelia said, more or less on autopilot – as most of her mind was still trying to process what her father had just said. { _He'd actually prefer Xander to any of the jocks and preppies and musicians who want to date me? Wow!_ }

"Unfortunately, I can't disagree," her father sighed. "Well, I'd best get back to the party. You two kids stay here and talk things out, okay?"

"Uh, actually? It's getting kinda late, I think I oughta get going –" Cowardly Lion Boy started to follow Daddy back into the mansion, before Cordelia grabbed him by the ear and hauled his ass backwards. "OWWWWW! Hey – hey, no, Cordy, c'mon!"

"Oh, stop complaining! Jerk," she said huffily, as Xander glared at her and she let go of him. "Now. I want to know what you and Daddy were talking about, in detail! Understood? So spill, mister, or you'll be sorry!"

"Sorry. But like I said, that's something you have to talk to your father about, not me. Way I figure it? It's totally up to Mr. Chase to tell ya about all that stuff. I mean, how'd you like it if I told him some of _**your**_ secrets?"

"Like what?!"

"Well, how about the fact that if you hadn't been stupid enough to deliberately ditch your chaperone that night – those frat guys would have never gotten the chance to drug you and serve you up as a meal for their demon master?"

 _ **WHAP!**_

"How _**dare**_ you try to blackmail me with something like that?" she hissed at him in pure fury, after slapping him.

"Hey, who said anything about blackmail? Geez. I guess you inherited more than just your hair from your dad, Cor; you definitely got his ability to jump to conclusions as well!" Xander replied, looking annoyed as he rubbed his rapidly reddening cheek. "You _**really**_ thought I was gonna try to blackmail you? Seriously, not only would that be totally pointless – but what with the whole Oracle thing? You've got a lot more dirt on me than I do on you!"

"Dammit. You're right," Cordelia exhaled crossly, before quickly calming down. "I – I'm sorry I slapped you, Xander. That was – you didn't deserve that, and I apologize for it."

"Apology accepted," he shrugged. "Now, I'm gonna go –"

"No. Wait just a minute! I mean – Daddy knows about what you can do, doesn't he?" Cordelia almost felt like lightning had struck her brain, as she suddenly guessed the truth. "That's why he thought you needed to be bribed about – whatever! You said something to him, he – he witnessed that whole green-eyed Oracle crap happen at some point, right?"

"Yup. The night I came over to give you that stuffed Gund bear, actually," Xander admitted, not exactly surprised that Cordelia had somehow managed to figure it all out. That annoyingly snarky voice at the back of his head reminded him how this girl was a lot smarter than the airhead image she liked to project in public. "And that's pretty much all I know, the rest is just pure speculation. So –"

"Uh-uh. You're not going anywhere yet, Harris!" Cordy grabbed him by the ear again before he could leave the balcony, and forced the guy to face her. "Look at me, dammit, and start performing!"

"Uh... Cordelia? Um, when you say 'perform', err, what exactly do you-?" Idiot Boy started to say nervously, after she let him go.

"Oh, puh-lease! No way we're ever gonna do _**that**_ – well, not unless I completely go nuts, and, and we end up dating for at least a _**year**_ , you pervert!" Cordelia said in exasperation. { _God, does_ _ **everything**_ _have to be about sex with him? Yeah, I suppose so – I mean, I know for a fact that boys his age only have one thing on their minds!_ }

"Okay – uh, hang on! A year, seriously? No, wait – what, what exactly did you mean by 'perform', then?" Xander seemed amazingly distracted for a moment.

"Uch! Someone Up There give me strength. Look me in the eye, Doofus! Do your magic trick, or whatever it is. You've done the Oracle thing for Harmony, for Daddy, for Mr. Herrold and that snake demon and God only knows who else! But now, it's _**my**_ turn!"

Xander briefly gaped at her, before pulling himself together. "Uh – sorry, Cordelia. But, but it doesn't work that way. I mean, I can't control the... ability. Can't force myself to do it whenever someone asks –"

"How do you know that? I mean, have you _**tried**_ to do it whenever you want to?" she interrupted challengingly. "Or has it been just a, an accident every time you've done it?"

"Uh – yeah. Huh. Point, I guess," Harris frowned. "It's just – well, people kinda get really upset once they hear whatever it is I tell them. Willow and Jesse are my case in point. So, are you absolutely sure ya wanna do this? I mean, odds are – you'll regret it, afterwards. No one's ever thanked me for telling them what's what, anyway," he said, briefly scratching the back of his neck.

"Well, there's always a first time for everything," Cordelia told him pointedly. "Okay, let's do this!"

"Fine," Xander shrugged, before he locked gazes with her.

"Well?" Cordelia demanded, after roughly a minute of uncomfortable silence.

"Well, what?" Xander shrugged, looking uncomfortable himself. "Told ya, I can't just 'perform' on demand! I don't know how, or if it's even possible. It sorta just happens, like I said."

"Well, try harder to do it, Dumbass!"

"Oh, geez, here we go. Nag, nag, nag – Cordy, find a new theme already!"

"How dare you say something like that to me, you lamebrain?!"

"Harpy."

"Loser!"

"Shrew."

"Total fashion victim!"

"Spoiled brat!"

"Complete and utter mor-mmrph!"

Okay, obviously a _**major**_ tactical miscalculation. Do not walk right up to and stand nose to chin with the Doofus that you're arguing with. Because then he can snake an arm around your waist, pull you in closer while your face is tilted up, and –

Lean his head down, and kiss the pure living hell out of you.

{ _Oh, wow. Oh ye gods, better than wow. Wait, what is happening here?! What's, what's he... ughhh..._ }

Several, uh, minutes – yeah, that was it, minutes later – because no way could it really have lasted hours, geez... Cordelia found her eyes opening again, both arms wrapped around Dweeb Boy's neck, and one leg curled around his with her heel digging into the back of his thigh above his knee. { _Yum. I mean, ugh. Eww!_ }

She pushed him away and glared at the asshole. Heatedly. "Ooohh... how _**dare**_ you..." Cordelia started to say, her eyes narrowed.

"What can I say, Cor? You suddenly looked all kissable, and I had a total moment of temporary insanity! And not sure if anyone's ever told you, but did you know – you actually kiss better when you're completely pissed off?" the Dumbass asked curiously.

"Really? No, none of my boyfriends have ever said – oooh!" Cordelia had to prevent herself from actually stamping her foot in childish annoyance. " _ **Never mind!**_ I thought I told you, Harris, we're _**not**_ gonna indulge in that sort of thing! Because –"

Then it happened. Xander's eyes finally turned green and sorta sparkly and shimmery, like she'd been waiting for all this time, and then he opened his mouth –

" _You were born not only with a silver spoon in your mouth, but with a silver dagger in your hand. So use your weapons wisely, for a new arrival on the Hellmouth could become serious competition for the object of your affections."_

{ _W-what?_ } Cordelia stared at him in amazement. { _What, what did he-? A Hellmouth? And some other girl might be serious competition against_ _ **me**_ _?_ }

"Because why, Cor?" Then Xander's expression changed. "Oh, boy. It finally happened, didn't it? God knows I've seen that look before! So, what did I say to you, already? 'Cause seriously, sweetheart, you look like you've just seen a ghost or something!"

{ _Sweetheart? He actually called me – no. No, this is_ _ **not**_ _happening!_ } Unable to deal, Cordelia turned around and rushed back into the mansion as quickly as she could.

Still, it wasn't fast enough for her to avoid hearing Harris say to himself, "Knew she'd end up regretting wanting to do this!"

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Oh, man, long day. But on the bright side, this story now has the third highest review count for all my fanfics - for which I humbly thank you, my loyal readers! Please keep it coming, along with all the PMs and feedback. You have definitely improved the quality of the story by doing so!


	15. Of Cosmic Meetings And Revelations

**Chapter Fifteen: Of Cosmic Meetings And Revelations**

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **January 9** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Cordelia was worried.

Even though her sixteenth birthday party last night had been a complete success – like _**that**_ had ever been in question – the previous evening, she had learned some very upsetting things.

Like, Daddy was into something bad. She didn't know what – after the party was over, he had refused to answer her questions about it, saying it was safer for her not to know – but whatever it was, it was almost certainly illegal...

Maybe it was something _**totally**_ criminal. Maybe it was something bad enough for him to even end up in _**jail**_ if he was ever found out! And then what would happen to her?

{ _Your life will be filled with sorrow, heartbreak and tragedy. Poverty and pain will replace wealth and luxury for you. Any of this sounding even vaguely familiar?_ } that snide and irritating voice from the back of her head asked her mockingly.

Oh, shut up! So what if that Madam Devora person predicted how that sort of thing would eventually happen to me? Well, fifty-fifty chance, anyway. And even if all that's true – which I still don't accept – forewarned is forearmed, ya know. I can do stuff like – well, like retrieving money from those offshore accounts Daddy set up. Cashing in some of the credit available on my charge cards. Maybe even selling some of my jewelry and other valuables. Setting up a Swiss bank account or something like that wouldn't hurt, either!

{ _Aww. It's kinda cute the way you think you can fight Fate, isn't it? But even if you do succeed in pulling off stuff like that, you'll still have to deal with being the daughter of a convicted criminal. And what rich and handsome guy with the right breeding and background will want you then?_ } Snide  & Irritating voice responded straightaway. { _Face it, Poverty Girl. Odds are there's only one guy who'll still want you, under those circumstances. And remember what Willow said a few weeks back? Betcha when the time comes, you_ _ **will**_ _sink your claws into the Dweeb quicker than you can say 'Mrs. Cordelia Harris.'_ }

Shut up, shut up, shut up!

{ _Why should I? We both know the Doofus wants you,_ } that snide, irritating inner voice pointed out. { _Wouldn't surprise me if, after that make-out session on the balcony, that boy went home and started jacking off in the privacy of his bedroom. On account of_ _ **no**_ _ **way**_ _he would have been able to get the memory of kissing you – again – out of his head._ }

Ewww! Gross!

{ _Well, duh,_ } Snide  & Irritating voice replied haughtily. { _But teenage guy, what do you expect? Still, you heard what Xander said while he was, ah, 'under the influence' last night. Soon enough, he might drop you like yesterday's Prada fashion accessories – once he meets this new girl on town, whoever she is._ }

Fuming, Cordelia abruptly made a decision – and started heading over towards the school bus stop.

Because if Xander fucking Harris thought he could treat _**her**_ like that? Then not only was he a total loser, but deluded-plus as well!

* * *

 **Street outside Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **A few moments earlier**

As was usual these days, Xander got off the school bus last, avoiding eye contact with everyone as best he could. Somewhat ruefully, he recalled a time when he would have been the first student off of the vehicle before putting his skateboard to good use – but those days were gone now, and there was no point in dwelling on them anymore.

If becoming an Oracle had taught him anything, it was to look forward, not back. To live in the future, not the past.

{ _Speaking of which, what are you planning to do about Cordelia in the upcoming future?_ } that snarky and annoying inner voice suddenly asked him. { _'Cause seriously, that girl was looking majorly upset last night – before she totally ditched you. Again._ }

Xander mentally shrugged to himself, starting to work his way through the crowd of students. He honestly didn't know what to do about Queen C anymore, not to mention whatever she must have heard come out of his mouth last night. Hell, he didn't even know what to do about the fact that they'd kissed again –

{ _Oh, that? That's easy. Invite her to meet up with you in one of the school's utility closets, and then pick up where you left off last night playing kissy-face,_ } Snarky & Annoying voice suggested cheerfully.

Like that's ever gonna happen? You heard her last night – smoochies are now totally off the table!

{ _Well, she might have changed her mind, you never know. And what's the worst that can take place? Cordy slaps you, and then walks off feeling pissed? Not like_ _ **that's**_ _never happened before._ }

Xander never got the chance to reply before – much to his surprise – he saw the girl in question heading straight towards him. He didn't get it – why would Cordelia be here, and without her Cordettes in tow?

"Underneath the bleachers, five minutes," Queen C said as she passed him by, without even looking at him.

Xander came to a halt, somewhat surprised. Slowly, he turned around and glanced in Cordelia's direction, even though he made sure no one actually saw him staring at her. { _Well. Huh. Wonder what that's about?_ }

And thus, he failed to see the new girl in town – the one and only Buffy Summers – slowly making her way up the steps leading towards the school.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **A few moments later**

Jesse finally saw Willow, after failing to find Xander, and quickly walked up to his best female friend near the front doors of the school. "Hey, Will! Looking good!"

It was true enough; the redhead had obviously cut her hair again over the holiday break, and she'd gone shopping for some new clothes – probably at Sunnydale's local mall. The softer side of Sears look was now history as he whistled, "Trying to impress Xander with the new threads?"

The dark look Willow sent him was enough to make Jesse backtrack immediately. "Or not..."

"So, it sounds like Xander didn't tell you the latest?" Willow asked him a few seconds later, after visibly calming down.

"Nah, he never called me last night. What, did something happen during Cordelia's birthday party?" Jesse asked, now feeling somewhat worried.

"Yeah. My mom was kinda annoyed he called so late, but I think Xander also inspired her to write a new paper on, uh, 'the statistically significant rise of social contact amongst adolescents since the advent of the Internet.' So – whatever," Willow rolled her eyes.

"Okay, so? What did the Xan-man hafta say? And, and where is he, anyway?" Jesse briefly looked around for the missing member of the Three Musketeers.

"I dunno, I haven't seen him today. But it wouldn't surprise me if he's with Cordelia again," Willow replied, with just a touch of pain and anger in her voice.

"If he's with Cordelia – again?" Jesse echoed, as they kept walking down the school corridor. "Willow? What's that supposed to mean? I mean, what's goin' on?"

"Uh, well, Xander said something about how he and Cordy were talking on one of the mansion's balconies during her birthday party, then he said something to her – y'know, the kind of thing he never remembers saying afterwards – and then she ran away from him," Willow said, looking around – probably for eavesdroppers, as best as he could figure out. "And if I know Xander, right now he'll be trying to corner Cordelia somewhere away from her friends, and talk to her about – whatever it is that he said."

"Yeah, I guess," Jesse nodded, missing out on the subtle clues regarding what Willow didn't say. Which was probably all for the best; otherwise, he would have ended up trapped in the depths of misery and depression all over again. Deciding to change the subject, he said, "So, did you hear about the new girl?"

Willow nodded, before she and Jesse came to a halt. "I heard someone was transferring from Los Angeles, yeah."

"Got a glimpse of her just now, I think. Short, brownish-blonde hair, and pretty good-looking," Jesse briefly grinned. "Betcha she's gonna try out for the cheerleader squad, she's certainly got the smokin' hot bod for it!"

"Terrific," Willow muttered, opening up her locker. { _God, please don't let the new girl be some sorta Cordelia clone? I already have enough problems with the original model!_ }

* * *

 **Football field, Sunnydale High**

 **A few minutes later**

Xander glanced at his trusty old Tweety wristwatch, and saw that five minutes had elapsed since Cordy had passed him near the school bus. So, moving somewhat cautiously, he made his way underneath the stands to find an impatient Queen C waiting for him.

"It's about time you got here!" she snapped fiercely.

Xander's hackles automatically went up. "You said five minutes, Cor. It's been five minutes; so I'm not exactly tardy, ya know," he said, holding up his left arm and pointing at his watch.

"What _ever_ ," Cordelia rolled her eyes at him. "Now get over here, we need to talk!"

"Yeah, I guess we do," Xander nodded, as he came closer. "So, let's hear it. What did I say to you last night, after I went all green-eyed Oracle Boy?"

"I –" Cordelia paused, looking at him uncertainly. "I'm not sure I wanna tell you. At least not yet. I want to –" Again, she paused. "I want to talk about us."

"Us? Uh, roughly twelve hours ago, you made it pretty darn clear there was no 'us.' I distinctly remember hearing you say that we're not gonna 'indulge' in that sort of thing. Which, come to think of it, isn't exactly surprising – hey, I've never forgotten you saying that you wouldn't marry me even if I was the last guy on Earth," he shrugged.

Cordelia's face fell. "Oh, yeah, last summer. Look, I know it might not mean a damn thing coming seven months too late, but – is there any chance of you letting me off the hook about that, if I told you that I couldn't help acting like a complete bitch that day?"

Xander snickered, he simply couldn't help it. "Cordy, I've seen you in total bitch mode. And back on Midsummer's Day, you weren't even close to that level of bitch-ocity," he snickered again. "More like – quarter bitch. Uh, twenty-five point four percent bitchiness."

Cordelia smiled for a moment at the lousy joke, before she grew serious again. "Still – I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that about you, Harris. I mean, sure – you're lame, you're spazzy, you have utterly no fashion sense, not to mention you've got the geekiest –"

"And the bitchiness level suddenly spikes way above fifty percent," Xander interrupted smoothly, his lips quirking slightly upwards.

"Oh, shut up!" Cordelia gave him a whack on the arm, looking both annoyed and embarrassed. "I'm trying to be serious, here!"

"So am I," he said, all the humor suddenly vanishing from his face. "Okay, Cor, so what's this all about? I mean, after we kissed and everything last night... wait. You weren't thinking of asking me to be your boyfriend now, were you?"

"No!" she replied, before frowning at the relieved expression on his face. "But – what would be so bad about it, if I did? I mean, why wouldn't you want me as your girlfriend?!"

Cordelia suddenly looked worried. "Wait, is there something wrong with my hair? Or my skin? No, please, that's ridiculous! Besides, last night, we both heard Daddy say he approves of you – oh! It's Mother, isn't it? Xander, listen to me, I don't know why she dislikes you so much but I can find out –"

"Cordy, stop! You're babbling. Like, Willow-level babble," Xander interrupted. "And no, it doesn't have anything to do with any of that."

"Then what does it have to do with?" Cordelia shot back, looking visibly stung by the annoying yet apt comparison to his red-haired best friend.

"Me and my situation, of course." Xander clarified off her confused look, "Cordelia – you _**know**_ I have to keep a very low profile, so that no one finds out about what I can do. I mean sure, there's a few people nowadays who know about the whole Oracle thing, including Tor and Heidi – sorta – but I sure as hell don't want anyone else to find out! I mean, if we started dating? That's attention from the popular crowd – and everyone else – that I simply can't cope with," he said sincerely, shaking his head.

"You – what?" Cordelia stared at him like he'd just grown a second head, or something.

"I can't afford to date you," Xander said slowly, trying to spell it out for her. "Believe me, if things were different –"

"You asshole!" Cordelia shouted angrily, and immediately tried to slap him in the face. But he was able to duck, and the blow missed. "Stand still, you lamebrain! Of all the no-good, pathetic, idiotic reasons to reject m-mmrph!"

{ _No doubt about it,_ } Xander thought vaguely to himself a few seconds later, his lips firmly socketed against Cordelia's. He had no idea why he was doing this after what he'd just said to her, and what she'd said to him, and what had happened after every other time he'd kissed this girl – but he simply couldn't help it. The taste of her lips had become, like, addictive or something. { _Cordy definitely_ _ **does**_ _kiss better, whenever she's totally furious!_ }

Xander's tongue suddenly found its way into her mouth, drawing a moan from Cordelia's throat. Instinctively, he pulled her in closer, and she reached up and slowly snaked her arms around his head.

{ _I could definitely get used to this,_ } was the last coherent thought that went through Xander's mind, before his brain shut down almost completely – and all he knew was the pure hotness which was Cordelia Chase, as they continued to eagerly suck face.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **Later that day**

Buffy couldn't help feeling like she was having quite an interesting first day at Sunnydale High.

First there was the uncomfortable farewell scene with her mother within the Jeep, and her mom had made her promise not to do anything that would get her kicked out of school. Then there was the interview with Principal "All the kids here are free to call me Bob but they don't" Flutie, and the man's nervous speech about her needs and the school's needs and whatever else he'd babbled on about. And lastly, meeting that dorky guy – Jesse something – outside the principal's office.

{ _He didn't even know my name, and yet straightaway he said 'you're incredibly beautiful' as he helped me gather my things up off the floor?_ } Buffy mused to herself, a small smile briefly gracing her lips. { _Well, it's always nice hearing that a girl's definitely got it, sure – but I don't have time for that sort of thing right now. After May, though, who knows? Gotta get rid of all the vamps first, then I'll see about potential boyfriends!_ }

Buffy made her way into the classroom, acutely aware of the looks being sent in her direction. Some curious, some lustful, and in the case of the dark-haired girl she had to sit next to in class, downright suspicious –

The History teacher – Mrs. Jackson – quickly asked for everyone to sit down, and then she started talking. For nearly fifty minutes, she spoke of the disasters to occur throughout human history, before eventually saying:

"It's estimated that about twenty-five million people died in one single four-year timespan. But the fun part of the Black Plague is that it originated in Europe, how?" Mrs. Jackson paused, waiting for someone to raise their hand. When no one did, she continued on, "As an early form of germ warfare. If you look at the map on page sixty-three of your textbook, you can trace the spread of the disease into Rome, and then north..."

Buffy looked around helplessly, before sending a pleading look at the brunette alongside her. The girl frowned, before sharing her book with the Slayer. Buffy couldn't help wondering what she'd done to earn that suspicious look being sent her way, but decided now was not the time to focus on that.

"And this popular plague led to what social changes? Steve?" the teacher said before the bell rang, indicating the end of the period. "Okay, for homework, study pages sixty-seven through to seventy-eight of your book. There might be a quiz on the material next week!"

The majority of the students groaned as they stood up and began filing out of the classroom. Buffy ignored them as she said to her classmate opposite her, "Thanks for sharing just now, seriously. My name's Buffy, Buffy Summers."

"You're welcome. And I'm Cordelia Chase," the brunette nodded back at her. "So, if you're needing a textbook? There's probably a few in the library."

"Library! Great. Which is where?" Buffy asked, feeling somewhat lost.

"It's not far from here; I can show you, if you like," Cordelia said casually, as they left the classroom. "So you're new in town, right?"

"Yeah, just transferred from Los Angeles," Buffy nodded, walking quickly to keep up with Cordelia's longer legs.

"Wow. I mean, living that close to that many shoes? Makes me wonder why you'd ever want to move to a one-Starbucks town like this one," Cordelia remarked, less than subtly.

Buffy shrugged, figuring she may as well get used to this sort of questioning for a while. "Parents got divorced, I ended up with my mom, she brought us here. New start in life kinda dealie."

"Oh." Cordelia briefly nodded as they walked. "Right. Y'know, my parents don't exactly have the greatest marriage either. Used to be that if you got hitched, it was until death did you part – but nowadays, fifty percent of all marriages end in divorce! I'm telling you, when I find the right guy to settle down with? I'm not gonna end up just another statistic; I'm gonna hold on to what's mine, no matter what! You know what I'm saying?"

"Yeah, I guess," Buffy bobbed her head forward. She was somewhat bemused by Cordelia's actions – to be honest, she'd been expecting something more along the lines of a coolness factor test rather than a rant of this sort – but then, she didn't even know this girl yet. Although it was fairly obvious Cordelia was part of the popular crowd, one of the queen bees of the school –

"Willow," Cordelia said, bringing Buffy's world back into focus as they stopped close to a water fountain.

"Cordelia," a red-haired girl straightened up and stared first at Cordelia, and then at her. "Who's your friend?"

"I'm Buffy Summers. I'm new. Pleasure to meet you," she smiled and briefly nodded at the other girl.

"Willow Rosenberg, and ditto," the redhead briefly smiled back at her.

"You wouldn't know it just from looking at her, at least not anymore – but Willow here is possibly the smartest girl in the entire school," Cordelia said off-handedly. "You need anyone to help you get caught up on all your subjects? She's the person to go to."

"Gee. Thanks ever so for volunteering my services just like that, Cordy," Willow said with an eye roll. "'Bout as subtle as a sledgehammer today, aren't you?"

"It's okay, if you're busy –" Buffy started to say.

"No, it's fine. We can meet during sixth period, if you're free?" Willow asked politely.

"Yeah, I guess. Where?" Buffy replied.

"The library, I suppose. Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, he's got all the school textbooks in there," Willow shrugged.

"Wyndam-Pryce? Sounds British," Buffy said uneasily.

"Yeah, he is. New guy, showed up not long before Christmas," Cordelia sniffed, tossing her hair to one side. "Dark hair, late twenties – he'd actually be kinda drool-worthy, if he wasn't such a complete stuffed shirt and had any personality worth speaking of!"

Buffy's unease didn't get any better. { _British, stuffed shirt, and like zero personality. Arrived in town not long before I did. Oh, no – new Watcher?_ }

"Don't listen to her. Mr. Wyndam-Pryce isn't that bad," Willow said comfortingly, before the girl transferred her gaze back to Cordelia. "And you're checking out other guys? What about Xander?"

"Who?" Buffy asked, confused.

"Never mind! And Willow, that subject is totally off-limits. Understand?" Cordelia glared at the redhead.

"Yeah, whatever," Willow shrugged. Then she turned to Buffy and said, "Well, I'll see you around. And maybe I'll see you at the Bronze tonight?"

"The what?" Buffy was almost starting to get a bit dizzy from all the hairpin turns of this conversation.

"The Bronze, it's the only teen club worth going to around here. They let anybody in, but it's still the scene. It's in the bad part of town," Cordelia said, shrugging slightly.

Buffy nodded. "Where's that?"

"About half a block from the good part of town. We don't have all that much town here," Cordelia shook her head. "C'mon, let's go. Library's this way."

"Maybe it'd be better if I take her there," Willow suggested, looking thoughtful. "Pretty sure your friends must be looking everywhere for you by now, Cordelia. Give Harmony and Gwen my regards, why don't you?"

Buffy noticed Cordelia give Willow a hard, assessing look before nodding and turning back in her direction. "Okay. See you later in class. Maybe tonight at the Bronze, too."

"Looking forward to it," Buffy nodded, as the brunette nodded back and then walked away. She then turned to her newest acquaintance and said, "So. Library?"

"This way," Willow nodded, before she checked her watch. "We better hurry; the next period is coming up soon!"

"Right. So, what's the what between you and Cordelia? No offense, but I couldn't help noticing all the Cold War vibes coming off of you two," Buffy said, as they walked off.

"It's complicated," Willow replied, which she correctly interpreted as 'I don't want to talk about it.' But then, to her surprise, the Rosenberg girl added, "But basically, she won and I lost where a boy was concerned."

"Right. This Xander person you mentioned before?" Buffy asked knowingly.

"Yeah. Xander Harris. Him, me and Cordy have all known each other since kindergarten," Willow explained, as they continued walking down the school corridor. "Like I said, it's complicated. Especially with Jesse thrown into the mix as well."

"Jesse?"

"Jesse McNally. Me, Xander and him have been best friends since forever," Willow nodded. "He's had a _**major**_ crush on Cordy since, like, puberty set in – but she won't even look in his direction unless she absolutely has to!"

"Jesse. Tall, dark-haired, black backpack, wearing an orange T-shirt today?" Buffy inquired, recalling the guy's name from earlier.

"Yeah. You've met him?" Willow asked, looking surprised.

"Yup. He helped me gather up my things earlier on, after some girl bumped into me in the corridor," Buffy shrugged. "Huh. So he has a thing for Cordelia? I feel so betrayed, after he called me 'incredibly beautiful' almost straightaway!"

Willow smiled. "Boys, huh? Hormones one, emotional maturity zero!"

"Preachin' to the choir here, sister," Buffy smirked back, feeling the tentative bonds of friendship start to be established. They finally arrived at the double doors of the library and she added, "Is this it?"

"Yeah. I'll see you later," Willow gave her a swift wave and then walked off, looking like she was in a hurry to get to her next class.

"Great!" Buffy swiftly entered the library. "Hello?" She continued further in, starting to feel somewhat oogy; the place seemed utterly deserted. "Is anybody here?"

"Can I help you?"

Buffy whirled around, coming face to face with a dark-haired guy wearing glasses and an expensive, starched-looking suit. Someone who'd spoken with a British accent. "Yeah! Hi. I'm looking for some books. I'm new here?"

"I see. Are you Buffy Summers?" Librarian Guy asked carefully, looking at her in a way that instantly creeped her out.

"How'd you know my name? Oh, wait. Duh! New girl. Probably mentioned in the staff meeting or something, right?" she semi-babbled. { _Smooth, real smooth!_ }

"I'm Wesley Wyndam-Pryce. The librarian here. I've been waiting quite a while for you to arrive," British Guy said, moving around behind the book counter.

"Okay. 'Cause _**that**_ doesn't sound totally stalker-ish and creepy, like at all," Buffy replied, the bad feeling from earlier only growing worse.

"Here we go," the librarian said, before he plonked a large old book with the word 'VAMPYR' written in gold leaf on the front cover.

Buffy looked up at him with an uneasy gaze. "That's not what I'm after –"

"Of course it is," Wesley interrupted, looking confused. "You're the Slayer, and I'm your new Watcher. How can it not be what you're after?"

"Oh, God!" Buffy instantly banged her head down on the book counter, the pain briefly distracting her from the hopelessly screwed-up situation she felt that her life had just become.

{ _It's my first day, and_ _ **already**_ _the Slayer thing is happening all over again? I cannot win!_ }

* * *

 **Main quad, Sunnydale High**

 **Lunchtime**

Cordelia was even more worried now than she'd been at the start of the day. She simply couldn't help it.

The new girl – Buffy Summers – was definitely someone that Xander could fall for under the right circumstances; she could feel it in her bones. And that was _**so**_ not acceptable! Even if she couldn't quite figure out why.

Dammit, why did everything have to go and become so confusing? The Dweeb wasn't her boyfriend! He was just – what?

Yeah, good question. What exactly was Harris to her, nowadays?

Just someone she liked to insult, slap and occasionally swap spit with? If so, then why the feeling of dread that the Dumbass would take one look in Buffy's direction – and then practically forget that she, Cordelia, still existed?

{ _Maybe I'm worrying about nothing,_ } she tried as hard as she could to convince herself of that. { _After all, last night the Doofus didn't actually_ _ **say**_ _that he'd dump me for the new arrival in town, just that – I should use my weapons wisely. But what exactly does that mean? Scaring off the competition by pre-emptively planting a flag in Xander's ass? No, can't be that simple; not after that conversation we had underneath the bleachers this morning. Well, before we started making out all over again. Grrrf. Auggh!_ }

Deciding it would be best to play it by ear, Cordelia approached Buffy carefully – and she noticed that the newbie was hanging with Willow, while the redhead was eating her lunch on one of the benches. Then Stalker Boy came up to join them. Which totally made her day – not!

"Is this guy bothering you?" Cordelia asked Buffy once she arrived on the scene.

"Cordelia!" McNally exclaimed at once, giving her that hopeful look she utterly detested, before his expression automatically became glum and dejected. "Um, what are you doing here? Looking for Xander?"

"Xander Harris?" Buffy asked, taking a step back and giving Cordelia some space to join the group.

"Yeah, uh, Buffy? Pretty sure I already mentioned that that subject's off-limits! And not wanting to interrupt your downward mobility, but I just wanted to tell you that you won't be meeting Coach Foster, the woman who took over from Mr. Herrold, because gym class was canceled. Y'know, due to the dead guy in the locker," Cordelia said blithely.

"What?" Buffy said, looking shocked.

"Some dead guy fell out of Aura's locker, like almost right on top of her. It was pretty gross," Cordelia remarked, wrinkling her nose in distaste.

"Uh, how did he die? I mean – were there any marks?" Buffy asked, with a strange expression on her face.

"Morbid much? I didn't ask," Cordelia replied, staring at the new girl weirdly. Then she noticed someone else approaching, someone whom she wasn't ready to deal with right now. "What do you want, Dorkhead?"

"Dorkhead?" Buffy echoed, staring at Xander curiously as he joined the group.

"Just ignore her, see – Cordelia kinda has her own special nicknames for all of us. Nerd Girl for me, Stalker Boy for Jesse, and a whole bunch of them for Xander. So many that I've actually lost track," Willow shrugged slightly. "Like, um, Loser Boy. Lame Boy. Geek Boy. A whole lot of 'boys', I guess. Oh, and then there's the classics, like Dumbass, Doofus, Dweeb –"

"Willow, do we have to be in total share mode?" Xander interrupted, now looking very uncomfortable. He then turned towards Buffy and said awkwardly, "Hi. Xander Harris, is me."

"Buffy Summers," she replied, and Cordelia could tell the new girl was smart enough to pick up on how the Doof was refusing to look her in the eye. "So, I heard Cordelia won and Willow lost where you were concerned?"

Her face flushing, Cordelia was about to unleash a scathing remark – when she noticed Harris had lifted his head and was now staring directly at Buffy in shock. { _No! No, no, no, you_ _ **idiot!**_ _Don't look at her that way, odds are you're gonna –_ }

Too late. Xander's eyes were already green, sparkling and shimmering in Sunnydale's afternoon sunlight.

" _Beware the vampire with the face of an angel who offers you a gift deadly to him. Because in the end, that will result in nothing but pain, misery and heartache for you."_

{ _Holy crap!_ } Cordelia thought to herself in horror, instinctively sending a look towards Willow that said, 'Get Xander out of here right now!' { _Okay, don't panic – you can do damage control here, somehow –_ }

"Uh, Xander, neat trick! See, he's, he's part of the Drama Club," she ad-libbed weakly. "Special effects, right, you saw the way his eyes –"

"Cordy? Pretty sure she ain't buying it," Jesse interrupted, sending a hopeless look her way.

"So, _**you're**_ the green-eyed Oracle," Buffy said, staring hard at Xander and pointedly ignoring everyone else. "Been waiting a long time for you to finally show up in my life, pal. Come on, let's go – you and me, we need to have a little pow-wow in private!"

"What the heck are you talking about? I mean, who are you? And why have you been expecting me to show up in your life?" Xander demanded, an unfriendly expression appearing on his face.

Buffy seemed to consider the questions carefully, before looking around at the others. "I take it since the civilians aren't looking at you like you're crazy for mentioning the vamps, they're all in the know?"

"Hey! Who are you calling a 'civilian'?!" Cordelia automatically snapped, glaring at Buffy for the perceived insult.

"Yeah, uh, we know about the walking dead here in Sunnydale," Jesse said hurriedly to Buffy. "Not a lot, though. Xander and Cordy, they encountered a whole bunch of them a few months back –"

"Not to mention a demon named Mikida, or whatever its name was," Willow nodded. "So. Who are you, Buffy? I mean, it's kinda obvious you're not just the new girl in town, right?"

The brownish-blonde girl nodded, as if coming to a decision.

"Right. I'm Buffy Summers, but I'm also the Vampire Slayer."

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Annnnnd we're finally into season one, my own rather twisted version of 'Welcome To The Hellmouth"! Just wanted to say thank ye kindly (as always) to everyone who's been reading, reviewing and sending feedback about the story. Please, keep it coming!


	16. Interludes, Part II

**Chapter Sixteen: Interludes, Part II**

 **Angel's basement apartment, Sunnydale**

 **January 9** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Angel paused before taking a sip of his freshly nuked blood, wondering just what he would do with his time today. Apart from brood about the past, of course. And brood about Buffy. And brood about Darla. And brood about...

Hmm, apart from mealtime, it looked like his day was packed with fun things to do.

"Listen up, Stink Guy. We got problems," Whistler's Bronx-accented voice said, as the Messenger for the Powers appeared out of nowhere (the way he usually did). "Major problems, as a matter of fact!"

"Whistler. Good to see you again," Angel said nonchalantly, deliberately gulping down the pig blood before turning to face the new arrival. "Can I offer you a drink?"

"Very funny," the agent of balance scowled. Angel could tell that his visitor wasn't amused by the question, given that there was no alcohol in the house and the Messenger didn't drink blood. "Will you be serious for a second? Like I said, we've got seriously big issues to deal with!"

"Which are?" Angel got up off his chair, and went over to where Whistler was standing.

"One of the Powers went rogue a while back, and started meddling with a lot of people's destinies. Including yours – and mine," Whistler visibly shuddered in disgust. "Apparently, she's finally been dealt with Up There – don't ask for details, 'cause I don't know what they are and I probably wouldn't be allowed to tell you even if I did – but fact remains, we've all been manipulated. Particularly you!"

"Me?" Angel scrunched his forehead in confusion. "Why me?"

"I already told you, I don't know details! But there was some kinda long-term plan she had in mind where you're concerned. You, and some sorta seer," Whistler shook his head.

"Seer?" he echoed in confusion.

"That's what the Powers told me, yeah. Telling ya, my bosses have _**definitely**_ dropped the ball on this one! And now, _**we**_ have to deal with the consequences," Whistler grimaced. "And I swear, I have no idea what they're going to be! Nothing like this has ever happened before." The agent of balance then sent him a questioning look. "Maybe you shouldn't even be here, Rat Breath. Like, you getting obsessed with that Slayer after I practically shoved her in your face? Might all have been part of the rogue's big master plan –"

"So what are you saying, I should leave Sunnydale? Let Buffy take care of the Harvest all by herself?" Angel interrupted. He didn't want to do that, not in the slightest. What with Darla, Spike, Drusilla and the Master present here, that would be tantamount to signing Buffy's death warrant!

"No... well, yeah, but also no," Whistler shook his head slowly.

"Okay, that clears everything up completely," Angel deadpanned in annoyance.

"Hey, gimme a break, all right? 'Cause the Powers – all of 'em apart from the rogue, maybe – they never anticipated anything like _ **this**_ , it's thrown everyone's plans out of whack! All I know right now, as a certain someone was apparently destined to say at some point in the future, is that 'it's all about choices. The ones we make, the ones we don't. Oh, and the consequences. Those are always fun.' So, best as I can figure, it's all about what you choose to do _**now**_ that's important."

"Cryptic advice? Not helpful. At all," Angel shook his head in annoyance. "Look, Whistler – do I follow through on the original plan to make contact with Buffy tonight, or not?"

"I don't know," Whistler said, suddenly sounding nervous. "No freakin' idea, and that scares the crap outta me more than you can possibly know."

"Well, if you don't know, then who does?" Angel demanded irritably. "I mean, I thought you were a direct minion of the Powers?"

Again, the Messenger turned to look at him in annoyance. "I'm not a minion, Dumbass, I'm a lackey. Can't be a henchman – I don't get paid enough for this crap!"

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

Cordelia honestly didn't have a clue what she was doing, following the Loser Squad (and Buffy) into the library. After hearing the blonde's declaration that she was the Vampire Slayer, every instinct in her mind had started screaming at her to run as fast as possible in the opposite direction, and pretend she'd never sought the new girl out to warn her that gym class had been canceled this afternoon.

Instead, she had ignored her instincts – and along with the others, she had followed Summers to where the dead body was being stored before the coroner's people could come pick it up. Cordelia had been there when a grim-faced Buffy had exited the room and said two words that had rocked her world all over again:

"Vampire bite."

Those two words had been enough to bring forth the nightmarish memories of when she'd almost been sacrificed to Machida, and almost without meaning to, Cordelia had firmly attached herself to Xander's side as the group subsequently made their way to the library.

(She hoped, she hoped, she _**truly**_ hoped none of her friends had seen her do any of this. The whispers and plots against her rule over the elite would begin almost immediately, if so.)

"Okay, what's the sitch?" Buffy called out, as they all went through the double doors.

"I'm sorry, what?" the librarian replied, coming out of his private office and looking confused.

"You heard about the dead guy, right? The dead guy in the locker?" Buffy demanded.

"Errrr, yes. But, uh, Miss Summers – why come to me about this?" the British guy – Mr. Windy Price-tag, or whatever his name was – asked, glancing at her and the rest of the group. "I mean, I'm just –"

"Oh, don't bother! Everyone here knows," Buffy interrupted him scornfully. "In fact, these two?" The new girl gestured towards herself and Xander. "They encountered a whole bunch of vamps a few months back. They even got names for two of 'em, uh..."

"Spike and Dru," the Doofus supplied helpfully, squeezing her hand a bit tighter.

The librarian actually gaped at herself and Xander. "Good Lord. You two _**survived**_ an encounter with William the Bloody, and, and Drusilla?"

"Is that their real names?" Willow asked, looking confused.

"Could be, Will – for the guy, anyway. It sounds like a scary name that an evil vampire would make up for himself, wouldn't it?" Jesse shrugged.

"No, wait, all of you – stop!" Librarian Guy abruptly raised his voice. "No. This won't do. Not at all!" He then turned to glare at Buffy. "Young lady, what's the big idea talking to everyone here about the undead? Didn't your previous Watcher explain the concept of secrecy to you?"

"Don't talk to me about Merrick, mister. Ever! Or I'll rearrange your face into a brand-new shape!" Buffy instantly snarled at him, causing Mr. Windy Price-tag to look alarmed and quickly take a step back. Which was weird, to Cordelia's mind – why would a grown man be afraid of a teenage girl who was barely five foot two (if that), and had to weigh less than half of what he did?

"And as for the first part, I didn't tell these guys anything they didn't already know before," Buffy went on, calming down a little. "So, let's hear it, Watcher guy. What's up with the dead guy on campus, who's got two big holes in his neck? And what do you know about these Spike and Dru vamps?"

"As to the former, almost literally nothing; I didn't even know he was a victim of the undead until you confirmed it. And as for the latter?" The annoying foreigner suddenly straightened up and glared at everyone. Well, he tried to, anyway. "I will _**not**_ discuss that in the presence of these, these _**children!**_ All of you, leave now – and for your own good, I strongly advise you to forget everything you've heard here today –"

[ HEY! ] Willow's voice suddenly shouted within her mind. [ Who the hell do you think you are, telling us to just forget what we know? 'Cause no way any of us are gonna do that, buster! ]

Cordelia shook her head slightly, as if to get Willow's voice out of her brain as soon as possible. Then she looked up to see the librarian look utterly shocked. { _Gee, what's his trauma? Wait, what am I saying?! Willow just pulled off that whole telepathy thing again, he'd have to be nuts_ _ **not**_ _to freak about it! Oh, geez, don't tell me I'm actually starting to get used to this sort of thing?!_ }

"Willow, could you please not do that? Because I've seen _The Fury_ , and trust me, that way lies spooky carnival death," Xander said to Nerd Girl sternly.

The librarian completely ignored the Big Dummy, unsurprisingly. "Miss Rosenberg –"

"I'm a witch," the redhead interrupted him. "Well, apprentice type self-taught one, anyway. So, you're a – what did Buffy call it – a Watcher? What does that mean?"

"That's, uh, classified," he stonewalled at once.

"Oh, hey, you may as well tell 'em. I mean if you don't, I will," Buffy said with a way-too-cheerful smile.

"But, but – this, this is madness! W-what on earth are you thinking, Miss Summers? I, I expect you to live up to your sacred birthright, and obey your Watcher without question! I mean, surely – you're not planning to ignore everything I command you to do as a rule, are you?" Mr. Windy Price-tag spluttered.

"You betcha. Well, as long as you've got that stick rammed up your English Channel, I am! Besides, you haven't heard everything yet. I mean, this guy here?" Buffy pointed at Xander. "He's the green-eyed Oracle –"

"HEY!" Xander exclaimed hotly, glaring at Buffy. "Who the hell gave you permission to reveal that secret?! I mean, do you want me to run out of here and start screaming at the top of my lungs, 'Buffy Summers is the Vampire Slayer!'?!"

"You'll do no such thing, young man, or else!" the Englishman suddenly blustered.

"Or else what?" Stalker Boy demanded. "I mean, was that a threat? Did you just threaten my best friend?"

"I – well, no, not exactly," the librarian suddenly looked very confused, and unsure of himself. "And, uh, green-eyed Oracle? I'm afraid I'm not familiar with –"

"We were outside in the quad, when outta nowhere, his eyes changed color and Xander told me to, um, 'Beware the vampire with the face of an angel.' There was something about a gift he was gonna offer me as well," Buffy shrugged.

Cordelia didn't like the way the librarian's eyes narrowed, as he turned his attention to her boyfr – her, uh, Xander. Accidental slip of the – mind. { _Yeah. Don't ever think of him that way, girl, or else your popularity will soon vanish completely!_ }

Mr. Windy Price-tag then said to the Dweeb, "Is this true? You warned her about Angelus?"

"I don't remember. And who's Angelus?" Xander asked in confusion.

The Englishman sighed impatiently. "No, no, a thousand times no. Let's start over, shall we? If we absolutely must do this, let's do it properly!" He took in a deep breath. "Now, first off, how much do you all know about vampires?"

"Enough to kill 'em," "Not much," "Nothing," Cordelia added her response in last after Buffy and the Loser Squad spoke up.

The librarian sighed again. "Then it's appropriate I should begin by saying that this world is far older than any of you likely know. Millions of years ago, demons walked the Earth freely because – well, back then it was their home, their... their Hell. But in time, those demons known as the Old Ones lost their grip on power. No one knows how, exactly, but they were all either killed or driven out of this dimension, thus allowing mankind to –"

"So how does this relate to vampires? I mean, are they demons?" Willow interrupted eagerly.

Mr. Windy Price-tag began to lecture again, "The oldest books available to us say that the last demon to leave this reality fed off a human, and mixed their blood. He was a human form possessed, infected by the demon's essence. That first vampire bit one victim, and then another, and another, and spread the plague far and wide. So the vampires now walk the Earth, feeding... killing some of the human herd, mixing their blood with others to make more of their kind. Waiting for the Old Ones to return."

"Well, that sounds totally skip-able to me," Stalker Boy muttered.

"So, these Spike and Dru vampires?" Xander asked hesitantly, changing the subject somewhat.

"I've never met them myself, but I've heard of both. Heard terrible things, to be honest. For example, in 1963 – those two slaughtered quite a number of people at an orphanage in Europe, I don't recall where exactly right now. But my father and the wet works team he was commanding back then, they encountered Spike while he was gleefully killing that night – and that damned creature murdered two of our men, before he escaped," the librarian said slowly, before looking back at everyone. "I went to school with the sons of those men, as a matter of fact. And they weren't the only ones who had lost family to William the Bloody."

"And, and this Angelus person?" Willow asked, looking more subdued now.

"Ah. Yes. The Scourge of Europe," the Englishman nodded. "Angelus is – infamous, for want of a better term. According to my information, he sired Drusilla, and she sired William – otherwise known as Spike – over a hundred years ago. And the fourth member of their little troupe is named Darla; she was the one who originally sired Angelus back in the eighteenth century, you see. They used to be known as the Whirlwind, actually."

"Okay, I'm sure this is all very fascinating for card-carrying members of the Losers and Geeks Club, but can we focus here?" Cordelia spoke up, as all eyes turned towards her. "Namely, how do we protect ourselves from these _**things?!**_ "

Mr. Windy Price-tag blinked. "Well, there's any number of ways, actually. Stay indoors or in public areas after sunset. Never offer anyone an overt invitation into your home. Get to a church if one is close by – crosses and holy water will repel the undead, but garlic has little if any effect. They're vulnerable to fire, sunlight, decapitation and a wooden stake through the heart – all of which will reduce a vampire to ashes."

"Wow. Just like in the movies? Like, I mean, _Dracula_?" Jesse said eagerly.

"Very much so. Granted that Mr. Stoker's account was rather more fanciful than reality – mostly, I suspect, to increase sales of his book – but, uh, he did get the methods of dealing with the undead correct," the librarian nodded. "And I think that's all the vampire information which all of you apart from Miss Summers needs to know, so if you could kindly leave –"

"No, not yet. What's a Vampire Slayer, exactly?" Willow wanted to know.

"That's none of your affair," Mr. Windy Price-tag said bluntly. "Don't ask! Do I make myself clear? Miss Summers, you're not to say another word about that to anyone!"

"And you're gonna force me to cooperate with that order, how?" the new girl asked with another sunny smile.

The librarian gaped at her again. "Well, I..." He crossed his arms, now looking very annoyed. "By, ah, appealing to your common sense, if such a thing actually exists. For goodness sake, you can't get the civilians involved –"

"Witch. Oracle," Buffy interrupted, pointed at Willow and Xander respectively. "The Council wouldn't classify 'em as civilians, I'm thinking!"

"What's the Council?" McNally demanded, looking confused.

"Bunch of hoity-toity jerks in England who think Slayers are disposable weapons, best I've been able to figure out," Buffy replied casually.

"What? No, we're not!" Mr. Windy Price-tag semi-spluttered.

"Then what are you?" the Dweeb asked, looking confused. "Just plain jerks, instead of hoity-toity ones?"

"Oh, good Lord," the British guy exhaled, before taking out a handkerchief to start polishing his glasses. "They never covered this at the Academy –"

"There's an academy?" Willow interrupted, looking excited all over again.

"You mean, like a Watcher academy?" Buffy looked surprised. "Huh. Is it anything like a police academy? 'Cause I saw those movies!"

"Me too," Nerd Girl nodded. "And my opinion, the original _Police Academy_ was okay; but the sequels all kinda sucked."

"I dunno about that – but after the fourth one, after Steve Guttenberg left the franchise? Yeah, they all pretty much tanked at the box office," Stalker Boy shrugged.

"Good bloody Lord," Mr. Windy Price-tag said, looking around in disbelief. "No, for heaven's sake, the Watchers Academy is nothing like – wait, why in God's name are we even having this conversation?!"

The librarian took another deep breath, before looking at her. "Very well; I'll grant that Miss Rosenberg and Mr. Harris may have a place as part of my charge's sacred calling, given their – abilities. But you, Miss Chase? And you, Mr. McNally? What are your powers?"

"Uh, I don't have any. I'm totally normal," he confessed.

"Same here," Cordelia nodded.

"Then I don't see how you have any further part in this discussion. Please leave – now," the British man said firmly. "And say nothing to anyone!"

"As if I was going to!" she replied angrily. "Geez, this is almost like that thing with Madam Devora all over again –"

"Madam Devora? Wait. Black lady wearing somewhat trashy clothes, plus huge hoop earrings?" Buffy interrupted, looking surprised.

"What? You know her?!" the Dorkhead demanded, still holding her hand and quickly dragging her closer to the new girl. "Do you know where she is? A phone number? Anything?"

"Errr, who's Madam Devora?" Mr. Windy Price-tag asked, looking confused.

"No. That's not – I mean, she's dead," Buffy confessed, ignoring the Englishman – and Cordelia felt her eyes grow wide upon hearing that news.

"Madam Devora's _**dead?!**_ Aw, dammit!" Xander cursed loudly, and she had to stifle the insane impulse to comfort him with a quick hug. Then Lame Boy added, "How did it happen? When? Where?"

"Uh, last summer, a few days after the Solstice. She found me on the street while I was patrolling – and there were nothing but empty holes in her head where her eyes shoulda been," Buffy said. Looking totally grossed out, naturally enough. Then the new girl added, "Before she died, see, she mentioned something about the Defender of Mankind, and, and being possessed by a god –"

"A _**god?!**_ " Librarian Guy interrupted. "Good heavens – which one? I mean, there hasn't been a recorded instance of – no, wait a minute, why didn't Mr. Jamison-Smythe record this in his Watcher Diary?"

"Because she told me not to tell him. Still, Merrick sorta found out anyway, after we visited the Loa," Buffy shrugged.

"The Loa?" Xander asked, looking confused.

"A, err... a, a giant statue a-a-and a, uh, a mystical information source," Mr. Windy Price-tag stuttered, looking completely amazed.

"Well, yeah, guess you could call it that," Buffy grimaced. Cordelia didn't know why, but she was willing to bet that those memories weren't good ones from the expression on the other girl's face. "Anyway, the Loa basically confirmed what that Madam Devora lady had to say to me."

"Which was what, exactly?" Cordelia asked. { _Oh, God, if that thing told her what Fortune-teller Lady told me and Xander last summer –_ }

"Uh, well, Madam Devora said for me to, um, not give in to despair. To be willing to do whatever I had to. Oh, yeah, she also mentioned – and the Loa confirmed – that I'd need Xander's help to get rid of every single vampire on the planet. Oh, and that giant hamburger statue said it's maybe gonna happen around May?"

 _ **THUD!**_

"Uh, Buffy? I think you mighta broken him," Willow said nervously, looking down at the unconscious form of the librarian.

"Eh, whatever. Hey, I've got a question! When the cops found the body of this Madam Devora person – shouldn't it have been mentioned in the obituary section of at least one of the L.A. newspapers? Well, unless that was just a stage name," McNally frowned, ignoring the immobile body on the floor.

"Could be. I mean, carnie fortune teller? For all we know, her real name mighta been something like Delores Plotz," Xander shrugged, frowning. "Still, Jesse's got a point. Willow's been looking everywhere, and there was nothing ever published online?"

Buffy shrugged back. "Hey, dead black woman found without any identification in one of the worst parts of Los Angeles? It'd barely rate a mention in the _LA Times_! And then only because her eyes were missing."

* * *

 **Somewhere on Wilkins Boulevard, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

Buffy was walking along the street and heading towards the Bronze, well – assuming the directions she'd gotten from Willow were accurate, anyway. She was thinking about many things, including the conversation with her mother just before she'd left the house. Her mom had talked about positive energy and making things work and not falling in with the wrong crowd again –

Major yawner.

Still, that wasn't the only thing Buffy was thinking about. Her mind flashed back to the meeting that lunchtime in the library, after her new Watcher had woken up from fainting in public. That had been rather funny – but what wasn't funny was how he'd immediately issued orders to her like Merrick used to do, during the bad old days. Like she was some kinda mindless drone or something.

 _{ Well, maybe that part's not exactly unexpected. It'll just take me a while to house-train the new guy, that's all,_ } Buffy mused to herself. { _Assuming I don't just give up and punch some sense into him, Slayer style!_ }

Buffy suddenly sensed that she was being followed. Trusting her instincts, when she got the chance she quickly ducked down a dark alley and looked around for a place to hide. { _Damn it, where can I-?_ }

A cat yowled and kicked some cans as it ran away down the alley. Looking in that direction, she spied something above her. Making as little noise as possible, Buffy quickly jumped up to do a handstand on a bar joining the adjacent buildings of the alley, high above the pavement.

A dark-haired guy wearing a white shirt and a black suit came into the alley. As he slowly walked along, Buffy strained to maintain her grip on the bar. { _Come on, come on!_ }

When he'd passed underneath her, she swung down and kicked him in the back. The guy was instantly knocked to the ground, and Buffy positioned herself above him with a foot on his chest.

"Ah, heh. Is there a problem, ma'am?" the man said, trying to play innocent.

Buffy frowned – something about this guy was totally pinging on her radar. { _Maybe it's the fact that he's a complete hottie!_ } an exasperating and yet appreciative voice at the back of her mind whispered gleefully.

The Slayer then focused and said, "Yeah, there's a problem. Why are you following me?"

The guy shook his head. "I know what you're thinking. But don't worry, I don't bite."

 _{ He knows about the vampires?_ } Buffy's danger alert was now shrieking louder than ever. Still, she backed off and let him get up, even if she kept her fighting stance.

"Truth is I thought you'd be taller, or have bigger muscles or something by now. You're pretty spry, though," the guy said, massaging his neck.

"What do you want?" Buffy demanded simply.

"The same thing you do," the mysterious stranger replied cryptically.

"Okay. What do I want?" Buffy asked, deciding to play along.

Mister Mysterious stepped toward her. "To kill them. To kill them all."

Buffy cocked her head slightly. "Who's them?"

The guy stopped, looking confused. "Huh?"

"You heard me. Who are you talking about? What 'them'?" Buffy demanded suspiciously.

"The vampires, of course," the dark-haired guy replied, looking confused. "I –"

"Who are you? I want a name," Buffy interrupted, a no-nonsense look appearing on her face.

"Call me Angel," Mister Mysterious shrugged. "It's what I go by nowadays, anyway."

{ _Angel?_ } The name tickled her memory from somewhere, but Buffy couldn't quite pin down where. She stared at this 'Angel' character and said, "So, why were you following me? You some sort of messenger boy?"

"Yeah, okay, let's go with that," Angel shrugged again. "And the message is, you're standing on the mouth of Hell. And it's about to open."

Buffy looked at him with a wide-eyed gaze of astonishment as the guy reached into his jacket, and he quickly pulled out a small box. He was just about to throw it to her, when Xander's prophetic words from earlier today suddenly thundered in her mind:

{ _Beware the vampire with the face of an angel who offers you a gift deadly to him. Because in the end, that will result in nothing but pain, misery and heartache for you._ }

Buffy froze. { _Angel. Angelus? Holy crap, is this a_ _ **vampire?!**_ _He doesn't feel like one..._ }

Angel didn't appear to notice her sudden paralysis. "So don't turn your back on this." He tossed her the box, and she caught it on reflex. "You've gotta be ready for the Harvest –"

"The Harvest?" Buffy interrupted, keeping her eyes on this 'Angel' person as she opened the box. She quickly glanced down and sure enough, there was a silver cross and chain present in the container.

Angel nodded. "Ask your Watcher. He should know about the ritual to free the Master."

Buffy came closer. "What master, mister? What are ya talking about?"

The vampire – if that was what he was – frowned. "The Master. He's the leader of all the vampires around here, even though he's been trapped in a mystical prison for the past sixty ye – AUGGHHHH!" Angel suddenly screamed and moved back, as she darted forward and pressed the cross against his cheek.

"I thought so," Buffy said in satisfaction, seeing the vampire's demon face appear. "Angelus, right? 'Cause I heard about you."

"No, wait!" the undead asshole started to protest, when Buffy hit him with a reverse spinning back kick, and he went sprawling down onto the pavement again.

"Come on, vampire. I don't have all night – let's do this," Buffy said challengingly, whipping a stake out and getting into a combat stance.

But to her complete and utter shock – the bloodsucker didn't even try to fight her, before he got up and ran off down the alley!

{ _Coward,_ } Buffy thought contemptuously, as Angel – Angelus – whatever – quickly vanished from view. { _Oh, what the hell, I'll deal with him another time. Right now, it's time for me to have some fun at this Bronze place – if I can ever find it!_ }

Buffy straightened her clothes, briefly checked her hair and then proceeded out of the alley; feeling slightly hungry and, uh – something else – after her brief tussle with the undead leech. { _Hmm, I wonder if any cute guys will be there tonight?_ }

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** And, here is the second installment of my version of "Welcome To The Hellmouth." Hope you liked it, but even if you didn't, please tell me what you thought of it with a review or PM! My eternal gratitude continues to go out to all who read and send feedback about this story...


	17. The Slings&Arrows Of Outrageous Fortune

**Chapter Seventeen: The Slings And Arrows Of Outrageous Fortune**

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **January 9** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Spike was nervous, even if he didn't dare show it.

Earlier this evening, Darla had walked into the Master's lair, summoned by the ugly old prat at last. Apparently, he had finally decided to rescind her exile from his court.

{ _And we all know why, don't we? That Harvest thing is tomorrow night, and he's chosen her as his bleedin' Vessel. And once Darla gets the old coot out of his cage, odds are I'm bloody well done for! Well, assuming that she doesn't start goin' on 'bout how I was plannin' to enlist Angel's help to pull off a coup around 'ere, first!_ }

"Arise, Darla," the Master commanded, staring at her kneeling form with those creepy red-gold eyes of his. "So. I trust you've learned your lesson by now?"

"I am but your willing and devoted servant, Master. Only you can judge whether I have done so, whether I am worthy of being in your presence once again," the blonde tart tried to suck up to her sire. It made Spike want to heave, but again, he didn't dare do it.

Not here. Not now.

Darla got up off her knees as commanded, but still didn't look at the ancient pillock. Then she said obsequiously, "All praise unto thee, Master. For you will bring back the Old Ones, and the stars themselves will hide in fear of your actions!"

{ _Blimey. Laying it on a bit thick, aren't ya?_ } Spike thought in sudden annoyance. { _As if that's even remotely likely! Still, good job playin' the loyal minion, if the gullible berk is gonna forgive you yer past mistakes –_ }

"Thank you, my dear," the Master smiled, in a dark and evil way. Spike felt his undead stomach churn again as his great-great-grandsire added, "Welcome back."

"Thank you, Master." Darla finally lifted her head to look her sire directly in the eye. "What are my orders?"

"The Harvest is almost upon us, so bring me some food. A last supper before my release tomorrow night, if you will," the Master said with a blood-curdling smirk. "It seems – appropriate."

"As you command, Master." Then the jumped-up whore looked in his direction. "Spike, Dru – you heard our Master's instructions –" Darla abruptly paused, looking around. "Where's Drusilla?"

"She went out, bit earlier on," Spike replied, doing his best to sound polite and civil. "Odds are she'll be back soon, though."

"Really? And what makes you think that?" Darla asked snidely. "That mad little witch is hardly what I'd call 'reliable.'"

Spike clenched his fists, struggling not to give in to his overwhelming desire to decapitate the former whore for that insult. He then managed to say, "'Cause I know my Dru, Darla. She has the Sight, remember? She probably went out to get the Master his evening meal; I'd reckon she already knew –"

"NO! Let me go, please!" a little girl's voice could suddenly be heard screaming not far away. A few seconds later, Drusilla appeared in the candle-lit lair, dragging a tender-looking bite-sized snack by the arm. "No! I want my mommy!"

"Is this for me?" the Master smiled that cold, bone-chilling smile of his again as he inspected the blood bag carefully. "Drusilla, my dear, it seems William was correct; you do anticipate my needs well. I truly am in the mood for something... young."

"Silly Great-grandfather, she's not for you," Dru shook her head, which immediately caused Spike's guts to twist in fear. His sire then added, "Come along, dearie, buck up! Time to hear what the Dark Lady has to say!"

"Drusilla..." Darla said warningly.

Getting the distinct impression that something _**awful**_ was about to happen, Spike was just about to grab his beloved and try to run for it – when Dru sprinkled some powder over the little blonde girl and chanted, "Nibelge sec Gilail, amona, accept this offering – and appear before me."

Immediately, the child straightened up, all traces of fear vanishing from her face. Spike instinctively braced himself for imminent disaster –

" _Who dares summon Me into this mortal vessel?"_ the kid growled in in a strange, reverberating voice that made him feel terrified.

No, not that, just – concerned. Spike refused to admit he was ever scared of anyone, not even the Master himself. Despite everything that the cantankerous old git had done to him in the past, and would likely do to him in the future.

"Drusilla, what have you done?!" Darla growled, no doubt feeling the same sort of – concern – which he was.

Dru didn't reply; she simply grabbed both him and Darla, and pulled everyone down on their knees. Spike was about to protest when the li'l bit flung out her arms – and every vampire other than them (and the Master) within the cavern instantly exploded into dust.

{ _Bloody hell!_ } Spike thought to himself, feeling shocked as he looked around at all the piles of ash. { _That was_ _ **too**_ _close! Dru, what the heck 'ave you summoned tonight?_ } He'd known his sire was as nutty as a fruitcake, but this –

"Well. It seems we have an unexpected guest," the Master drawled, even though Spike could tell he was feeling 'concerned' as well. "May I know your name?"

" _My host's name is Cassandra Newton, even though she calls herself 'Cassie,'"_ the little girl replied in that echoing, reverberating voice. _"And do you really think I intend to reveal My true Name? To know another's Name is to have power over them! And_ _ **you**_ _of all demons should know that – Heinrich."_

"Heinrich?" Spike echoed in surprise and delight, as the little girl – or rather, the thing using her as some sorta meat puppet – gestured. The Master subsequently levitated up off the ground, his head being pushed back and down – almost to snapping point.

"Master!" Darla attempted to get up off the floor, but Dru held her down with unexpected strength. Probably wise, Spike figured, given that he had no bloody clue what they were really dealing with here –

"The Dark Lady hasn't finished yet, Grandmother," Drusilla said chidingly.

" _Indeed, I have not."_ She gestured casually, and Spike smirked inwardly as the Master went flying away to crash into one of the walls of his prison. Then William the Bloody quickly focused as the – thing – stared at him and Darla and Dru and said, _"Which one of you is responsible for My being here?"_

"Oooh! Me, me, me!" Drusilla eagerly raised her hand up before Spike could stop her, or try to take the blame for her actions.

{ _Bloody hell, Dru..._ } he grumbled to himself, instantly worried and frantic about her insane confession. { _You're gonna be the death of us both – Satan's balls! Now what?_ }

" _You are the mad Seer. You dare to summon the Goddess of War, Prophecy, and Death?"_

"You're claiming to be an actual deity? I must admit; I find that a little hard to believe," the Master said, having gotten up by now. He had a nasty-looking gash on his forehead, which was bleeding; but even if he looked battered, he certainly didn't look defeated or in awe of their unexpected visitor.

" _You are doubtful of the truth?"_ the goddess (or whatever the bleeding heck she was) asked through her human avatar, glancing back at the captive vampire. _"You, Heinrich? You, who were enslaved by the Seed of Wonder eight hundred years ago to protect and watch over it? Your lack of faith displeases Me."_

{ _What the effin' heck is she talkin' about?_ } Spike asked himself, confused. Although from the expression on the Master's face – loathing and anger and whatnot – he could guess that there were secrets being revealed here, secrets that his great-great-grandsire didn't want anyone to know –

"Master, what is she saying?" Darla asked. But her sire didn't answer the question. The Master didn't even look at her; his gaze was completely focused on the little girl.

" _I am saying that given My purview and demesne, it is within My power to revoke the inevitable prophecy within the Pergamum Codex which foretells Heinrich obtaining his freedom. I hereby do so; and as I will, so mote it be!"_ the goddess proclaimed majestically.

There was a small flash of white light – and even though Spike didn't know how he knew it, he was nonetheless certain the entire world had somehow changed. Whether it was for better or worse, he didn't know yet –

"What was that?" Darla whispered. Spike saw her eyeing the Master – who was now laying unconscious on the ground – and the former prostitute was looking very nervous, all of a sudden.

"Foolish Grandmother! The Dark Lady has issued forth Her power," Dru replied, giggling briefly. Then she scowled. "The Slayer! That wicked, 'orrible Slayer! Now she won't die the way she was s'posed to!"

" _I did not say that,"_ the goddess shook her mortal host's head slightly. _"And you are free to kill that Chosen One as far as I am concerned, if such be your desire – for as I said, Death is part of My domain, along with War and Prophecy."_

Deciding that he needed more time to think about that in more detail, Spike said way-too-cheerfully, "Right, then, so are we done 'ere? Nothing else we need ta talk 'bout, is there?"

"Oooh! My Kitten! And that naughty girl o' his. Can we kill 'em now, Dark Lady?" Drusilla asked, suddenly looking eager.

" _No. You will not harm those two, Seer, and neither shall the rest of your kind. Or else you will know My wrath at once. My chosen and his paramour have their own destinies to fulfill,"_ the goddess said warningly.

"Oh, pooh," Drusilla pouted, as Spike and Darla looked at her in undisguised alarm. "That's no fun at all!"

" _Nonetheless, you will obey My commands or suffer the consequences,"_ the Dark Lady declared. Glaring at Dru, the deity's human avatar then said, _"And consider this your one and only warning, Seer – summon Me again this way, and it will be the_ _ **last**_ _thing you ever do!"_

There was no light show this time, or anything like that – but Spike nonetheless knew that the goddess was now gone, that there was nothing but a little girl standing in front of him. Well, the nibblet starting to shriek incoherently was a pretty strong indicator of that, anyway.

Getting up off his knees at once, Spike was somewhat surprised to see that the girl now had nothing but empty holes in her head, where her eyes used to be. Mentally shrugging, he quickly strode over to where the bint was screaming her lungs out –

 _ **CRACK!**_

Spike felt nothing but relief after breaking Cassie Newton's neck, putting her out of her misery – and everyone else's around here, as well. Then he looked around and saw Darla standing guard over her fallen sire, like some kinda mother hen or something.

Almost daring him to attack.

{ _Should I-? Nah. Bugger that,_ } Spike instantly dismissed his half-formed plan to attempt to slay Darla and then the Master, right here and right now. { _Odds of success still aren't in my favor, damn it!_ }

* * *

 **The Bronze, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

Xander sat at a table alone, ignoring the band called Sprung Monkey playing the song called 'Believe' on the nightclub's main stage. He had too much to think about right now.

{ _Madam Devora's dead._ } That particular piece of news from earlier today had definitely thrown him. Xander had to admit to himself, he had never once anticipated hearing something like that – he had simply assumed that the fortune-teller was still out there somewhere, hiding from Willow's cyber-eyes for her own reasons. Because –

Well, because the alternative had been unthinkable.

Namely, that he was _**stuck**_ being an Oracle for the rest of his life, just like Madam Devora (or the thing possessing her, maybe) had said back on Midsummer's Day.

{ _This really is permanent, isn't it?_ } he asked himself, feeling depressed and miserable as a number of Bronze patrons bustled their way past him, on their way to the bar. { _Odds are there's no one else who can undo what was done to me, anyway. Oh, sure, maybe that Mr. Wyndam-Pryce guy might know someone who can help me – but I sure as hell don't trust_ _ **him**_ _to have my best interests at heart! Hell, for all I know, he might contact his bosses in merrie olde England, and I'll end up having to run for it from some kinda Watcher snatch squad –_ }

"Hey, Xander," Willow's voice suddenly impacted upon his consciousness, and he looked up to see both her and Jesse taking a seat at his table. She added, "I wasn't expecting you to show up so early tonight."

"Me neither, bud. Like, what's up with that?" Jesse asked, placing his can of Dr Pepper on the table. "Lately, you've been Fashionably Late Guy where the Bronzing's concerned. Kinda."

"Yeah, uh, couldn't stick around the house any longer. I think my parents are getting kinda suspicious about me," Xander replied, still looking down at the table surface. "Ever since my birthday, y'know, they've been asking questions like 'why don't you have more friends' and 'why don't you have a girlfriend' and stuff like that. Starting to make me yearn for the good old days, when they didn't pay much attention to me."

"Xander!" Willow said scoldingly. "You should consider yourself _**lucky**_ that your parents are starting to take an interest in your life! I mean, heck, mine are starting to ignore me completely! Jesse, what about you?"

"Eh, same old, same old," the guy shrugged. "My parents are cool. Still, Xan, your mom and dad think you don't have a girlfriend? I mean, what about Cordelia?"

The room's temperature suddenly seemed to drop significantly as Xander stared at his best friend and asked coldly, "What about her?"

"Oh, come on! I mean, the way she was holding your hand in the library today? And the way you totally didn't object to Cordelia doing that? You guys oughta just admit to yourselves what Jesse and I already know," Willow said in annoyance. "I mean, you and her may not be in a dating relationship yet, but I'm sure it's just a matter of time –"

"No, it's not," Xander interrupted her. "'Cause we've had this conversation before, Will. There are reasons – good reasons, excellent reasons – why Cordy and I aren't together, and probably never will be. Especially now that Madam Devora's dead, and she can't undo what she did to me."

Willow and Jesse immediately looked uncomfortable, but fortunately, Buffy showed up at that precise moment before she parked her ass down at the fourth chair of the table. "Hey, guys!"

"Oh, hi!" Willow immediately responded with a smile.

"Buffy! Hey," Jesse added with his own grin.

"Hi," Xander nodded at her absently, before noticing that the new girl was staring at him. "Is something wrong?"

"No, actually, I just wanted to say thanks for the heads-up you gave me earlier today. Ran into Angelus on the way over here, believe it or not," the Slayer replied, placing a small box on the table before opening it – and everyone saw the silver cross and chain. "Happened just like you said it would – and sure, that vamp managed to get away after I kicked him in the face, but I figure I'll stake Angelus another time. Or decapitate him, or whatever."

"You're _**thanking**_ me for what I said to you earlier today? Huh. That's a first," Xander frowned, looking at the cross. He pointed to the box and said, "Still, I don't get it. Why would a vampire want to give you something like that?"

"Who knows?" Buffy shrugged, looking unconcerned. "Guessing he probably just wanted to derail my suspicions, or something like that."

"Could be. Classic war movie strategy," Jesse nodded. "Didn't the bad guys do something like that in _The Great Escape_?"

"I think that was actually _The Dirty Dozen_ , not to mention _Good Morning, Vietnam_ ," Willow frowned.

The next moment, Xander noticed trouble heading their way. "Oh, great..." he muttered to himself.

"Well, well," Kyle said with his typical sneer as he, Rhonda, Tor and Heidi ambled to a halt. "If it isn't Xander Harris and his loser friends!" He glanced over at Buffy and said, "Hey, uh, new girl? You wanna fit in around here, then you oughta get to know who all the bottom feeders are. That way, if you're smart? You can avoid 'em like the plague!"

"Heh. We learned about the Black Plague in History class today," Buffy said musingly. "Wasn't it brought over to Europe by rats, or something?"

"And you oughta know all about that, Kyle," Jesse added, sending an unfriendly look at the bully.

"So what's _**that**_ supposed to mean, McNally?" Rhonda demanded belligerently.

"Yeah. 'Cause rumor has it you're flunking History," Tor interjected.

"Not to mention flunking out on getting anywhere with Xander's unofficial girlfriend," Heidi smirked. "It must just eat you up that he won and you lost where Cordelia is concerned, right?"

"Hey! Cordelia's not my girlfriend!" Xander said with some annoyance, even though everyone ignored him.

"So, McNally, is the gossip in the girls' locker room actually right for once – you're all talk, no action?" Rhonda asked viciously.

"What? No! I am so definitely Action Guy!" Jesse replied indignantly.

"Yeah? So when was the last time you went out on a date?" Tor asked lazily, as Heidi wrapped her arm around him.

"Ah..." Jesse looked like he suddenly had a case of brain lock.

"Jesse? Have you, like, forgotten? I mean, we have a date scheduled for Saturday night!" Buffy spoke up, as all heads turned to look at her. A suspicious look then appeared on her face. "Hey, wait a minute – are you dating other girls as well as me?"

"What? No!" Jesse shook his head, and Xander could tell that his best bud was kinda wigging as he said that. Plus, he was pretty sure that Buffy had just made that up to give his friend an out with regard to the bullies' accusations, but it was kind of a dangerous move – there was no way to tell how Jesse would react, if he would –

"You got the new girl to go out with you? Well, there's a pity date if I ever saw one," Kyle shook his head in disgust.

"Yeah," Rhonda nodded, moving closer to her boyfriend. "Man, this whole conversation sucks. I say, let's get outta here!"

"Sounds good to me," Tor nodded. "By the way, Xan, haven't forgotten about you-know-what. Or the warning about Willow."

"What? What about me?" his red-haired little buddy demanded at once. But the four bullies had already moved on, looking for fresh meat to torment. So he wasn't surprised when Willow focused her gaze upon him. "Xander?"

Harris shrugged. "Yeah, uh. Heh. Sorta mentioned that if Tor and Heidi ever told anyone about the whole Oracle Guy deal, you'd kill 'em if anything happened to me afterwards."

"WHAT?" Willow automatically yelped.

"What, what? C'mon, Will, we all know you would," Jesse shrugged. "Way you feel about Xander, my money says you wouldn't even think twice about it if he got killed, or kidnapped, or whatever!"

Willow never got the chance to reply, as Queen C and her popular friends stopped on their way past the table. Harmony jeered, "Hey, look; it's Cordelia's stalker!"

"I am not!" Jesse automatically tried to defend himself, even as Xander wondered why his best friend appeared to be the target of a lot of the Sunnydale femmes tonight. Probably something to do with how Sunnydale was cursed, or whatever.

"Not to mention his useless misfit friends," Gwen said distastefully, looking around at the group. Her gaze focused on Buffy, "Hey, new girl? If you're smart –"

"Yeah, yeah, already heard the spiel from the Neanderthal brains that dropped by earlier," Buffy cut her off. "But I can make up my own mind on who I want to hang with, thanks."

"So, does that mean you're choosing the loser crowd over us? Well, it's your social life that's gonna end up dead in the water," Aura replied, looking Buffy over carefully.

Cordelia – who was wearing a hip-hugging lavender-blue dress that did wonderful things for her magnificent cleavage, Xander couldn't help noticing – then said huffily, "Ugh, this is a total waste of time. Come on, people; let's move on! I can feel the nerd cooties trying to infect us already!"

"She's right, this definitely blows," Joy spoke up, as Queen C and her minions started to drift away to another part of the club. "And as if we should even be talking to them! Especially a couple of guys as desperate and dateless as Harris and McNally!"

Xander felt his face flush with embarrassment, but Jesse's reaction was even worse. Once the popular girls were gone, he muttered, "Y'know what? I, uh, don't exactly feel in the mood for Bronzin' it anymore, thinking I might just go home."

"Jesse, no! Please, stay," Willow objected at once. "Don't let what those b-i-t-c-h-e-s said drive you off!"

"Uh, Willow, I think we're all old enough here for you to actually say the word," Buffy said wryly.

"We are?" Xander asked doubtfully, before nodding firmly. "We are!"

"Yeah, but it doesn't matter. Really not in the mood to stick around any longer. So I'll see you guys tomorrow," Jesse said with a sigh, getting up. "G'night."

"See ya,", "Bye," Buffy and Willow said in unison.

"Later, dude," Xander added a few milliseconds later, just as Jesse bumped into a tallish young man heading the other way.

"Oh! Sorry," McNally immediately apologized.

"No problem," the other boy nodded, accepting the apology. Then he asked, "Hey, guy, help me out here; who was that hot chick in the lavender dress that just left? Man, she was one fine-looking piece of ass!"

Jesse scowled, brushing past him. The newcomer looked confused as he asked, "Was it something I said?"

Xander kept silent and somehow restrained the overwhelming urge to punch his fist straight through the goddamn asshole's face, as Buffy and Willow told the new guy – whose name was Devon MacLeish, apparently – that most girls didn't like being described as a 'fine-looking piece of ass.' He doubted the message sunk in, though; Devon seemed like quite the player, and obviously felt the need to live up to expectations.

Before he ceased paying any attention to him, however, Xander noticed that Devon bumped into a blonde girl dressed in a Catholic schoolgirl outfit, once he started chasing after Cordelia again –

* * *

 **The upper level of the Bronze**

 **A while later**

Wesley was looking for his Slayer, trying his best to ignore the crowd and the sad excuse for music which the band here was currently playing. But nonetheless, he was distracted – by everything he had learned in the high school library today, if nothing else.

{ _I can't believe no one told me anything before I left England,_ } Wes thought to himself in annoyance, as he continued to look for Buffy. { _Good grief, I'm the Watcher to the Slayer! If anyone deserved to know that the eternal threat of the undead might actually be over in a few months, it's_ _ **me!**_ _All right, yes, I can understand the whole 'need to know' argument, not to mention the requirement for compartmentalization – but still, either Father or Mr. Travers should have said_ _ **something!**_ }

Quite frankly, it had been utterly embarrassing finding out the truth that way earlier this morning. And the frantic phone call to England after the children had left the library had been equally humiliating. He had barely even gotten the first few words out before he had been told to shut up at once, that this wasn't a secure line and that he would be contacted about the matter safely 'at a later date.'

What exactly that meant, Wesley didn't know. But the British man couldn't help asking himself, { _If the High Council actually decided to keep something_ _ **this**_ _important a secret from me, then what else might they be concealing? What else don't I know, which I should?_ }

It was a bitter pill for him to swallow, that the highest echelon of the Council – something he had always revered and believed to be infallible in its decisions – could have erred so badly. It was, in fact, enough to make Wesley reconsider his decision to inform his superiors about Miss Rosenberg and Mr. Harris at the first opportunity – that one was a witch and the other an oracle of some sort. Granted, the girl was probably too young to leave the country and join that Devon coven which was loosely aligned with the Watchers, but as for the boy –

"So, looks as if you like to get down and party with the students. Isn't that kinda skeevy?" the Chosen One's voice abruptly distracted Wes from his thoughts.

Wesley turned around, and saw his Slayer approach him. "I'm afraid your assumption is quite mistaken, Miss Summers. I am in fact solely here because I was looking for you. It's not like I could call you at your house and ask to speak with you without raising your mother's suspicions, could I?"

"Point," the Chosen One inclined her head slightly. "So, why did you wanna speak with me?"

"The influx of the undead, all the unnatural deaths and supernatural occurrences around here – after you left the library, I started digging deeper than what I've already done so far. Apparently, it's been building steadily for the past six months – and all the signs, as far as I can tell, point to an upcoming mystical upheaval, very soon. Days. Possibly less," Wesley confessed.

"The Harvest?" the Slayer asked, her eyes narrowing.

"The what?"

"The Harvest. That Angel guy – or Angelus, whatever – he mentioned something about that. Some kind of ritual to free the Master –"

"Good Lord! The Master's here? And – that ancient vampire's trapped, somewhere in Sunnydale?" Wesley interrupted, looking aghast. "No, wait – _**Angelus**_ told you this? When? Why?"

"Earlier tonight, and not sure. He also mentioned something about standing on the mouth of Hell, and it was about to open," the Chosen One frowned.

"The mouth of Hell? Hrmm – that's odd. The original Spanish settlers who first arrived in this area, they called it 'Boca del Infierno.' Roughly translated, 'Hellmouth.' It could be a coincidence, possibly, but..." he trailed off.

"In this business, there's no such thing as coincidence," Miss Summers nodded.

"More often than not, no. Yes, I-I need to head back to the library. Is there anything else you know, anything that Angelus mentioned during your encounter?" Wesley asked, before feeling somewhat embarrassed. "Oh! Errr, you _**are**_ all right after encountering the Scourge of Europe himself, I take it?"

"Gee. Thanks ever so for the concern," the Slayer replied sardonically. "But yeah, I'm fine. And seriously – I got me the impression that that guy must have the best PR department in the entire world, because he definitely didn't look that Scourge-y to me! Got up and ran away as soon as I kicked him in the face, believe it or not."

"Really? Well, that's strange. Still, perhaps it might explain..." he trailed off, deep in thought, before he noticed Miss Summers looking at him in undisguised annoyance. "Ah, please do forgive my wool-gathering. The thing is that Angelus disappeared around a hundred years ago, and there are no confirmed accounts of him killing anyone since the turn of the century. And I'm not sure when exactly he would have come to these shores, but I'd wager it was probably quite a while ago – he didn't speak with any sort of Irish accent, I take it?"

"Uh-uh. He sounded just like any other guy to me. Felt like one, too. In fact, if it hadn't been for Xander's warning? I'd have fallen for his act completely," the young woman shuddered briefly. She then gave him a small box of some sort. "Here, you can have this. Tall, Pale and Undead wanted me to have it, but no _**way**_ am I ever accepting any sorta gift from a vampire. Especially him! I mean, who knows what kind of spell or whatever the guy might have put on it?"

"Ah. Excellent thinking, glad to see you're on the ball. A good Slayer is a cautious Slayer," he said proudly, before seeing the expression on the girl's face. "Is something wrong?"

"Well, other than the fact that you sound incredibly pompous and full of yourself? Not really, no."

Wesley immediately felt indignant. "Now see here, young lady-!"

"Look, Wes –"

"The name is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Miss Summers, and I'll thank you to use it!"

"Whatever you say, Wes." He had to strain not to lose his temper as the cheeky bint added, "Here's the thing, Watcher Guy. We need to work together for the next five months or so, and I'd prefer it if we could get along until all the vampires in this world are histoire – and then you and I can go our separate ways! So you stop acting like I'm some sorta robot that has to blindly obey whatever the hell comes out of your mouth, and I'll try to pretend that you're not a completely inexperienced idiot – one who doesn't have a clue about the real world here in America. Deal?"

"Why, of all the-!" Wesley semi-spluttered, horrified and outraged at hearing the words coming out of his Slayer's mouth.

"Good! I'm glad we understand each other," the Chosen One interrupted him again, with another sunny smile appearing on her face. "Okay, I'm heading out to see if I can't kill me a few vamps before going home for the night. You have fun with the whole book-learning thing; and I'll come to the library before homeroom tomorrow morning, we can catch up before classes start. That sound copacetic to you?"

Wesley could only stare numbly as the girl nodded, before she quickly turned around and left him. And the only thing he could think was, { _What the devil just happened?_ }

* * *

 **Deserted alley near the Bronze, Sunnydale**

 **Five minutes later**

Angel watched as Buffy fought Spike up and down the alley, and briefly shook his head. He had no idea who was going to win the current battle –

It had all started inside the club; he had seen Buffy spot Spike as the British vampire was leaving the Bronze with his evening meal. She had followed them out here and forced the issue with his former protégé, giving the ignorant female teen William had picked up a chance to run for safety. Then the fight had begun.

The Slayer was like poetry in motion, almost. She ducked and weaved around Spike with almost effortless ease, her kicks and punches flowing smoothly from one attack to the next. Her previous Watcher had obviously trained her well.

But Spike was no clumsy brawler, either – he, too, could dodge and parry and counterpunch. So they fought in that timeless dance that was the curse of every Vampire Slayer, until Buffy's right foot shot out and connected with Spike's groin.

"AUGGHHHH!" Spike yelled in pain, glaring at her but nonetheless moving back a few paces to recover from the direct hit to his testicles. "Right, that's it. No more Mr. Nice Guy!"

He immediately followed that statement with a punishing right hook, which finally decided it for Angel. But just as he was about to step into the battle on Buffy's side, he felt a cold hand on his shoulder –

"Awful Angel-beast!" Drusilla spun him around and then she kneed him in the exact same place Buffy had just kicked Spike. Instinctively wheezing and backing away, Angel was nonetheless surprised when Dru made an upset noise while staring at the cross burn on his cheek. "Oh! Does that hurt?"

"What do you think, Dru?" Angel grunted, before straightening up. He glared at her challengingly. "And do you want me to show you what pain really feels like?"

"No, no! You'll not do that. The stars all say so, just like the moon. Just like Miss Edith!" she proclaimed, before looking away towards the back entrance to the human nightclub. "Oh! The Kitten's coming. Must go, must go, must go –"

{ _What the hell?_ } Angel asked himself in surprise, as the crazed vampiress abruptly scampered off. { _No, never mind. Buffy's the priority right now, after all!_ }

Just then, the rear door to the club opened – and a young man, a dark-haired youth who looked around sixteen years old, stepped out into the alley. He took one look at the fight taking place between Spike and Buffy, and would have rushed forwarded with a stake in one hand and a cross in the other – if Angel hadn't grabbed him by the shoulder, and prevented him from doing so.

"Hey! What are you-?" The boy abruptly cut himself off as he turned around and took in the sight before him, and then brandished the cross forward like the weapon it was. "Back off, vampire!"

"Please put that away. I'm no threat to you, unless you attack me," Angel forced himself to say. It was a struggle not to slip into his demon face, though, and he suddenly wondered, { _How did he know-? Oh, wait, the cross burn on my cheek, of course!_ }

"And I should believe you why, exactly? I mean – uh, you _**are**_ that Angel-slash-Angelus guy Buffy encountered earlier, right?" the young punk demanded, eyes narrowing.

"The name's Angel, not Angelus. And as to the first question, because I'm the only vampire with a soul in this world," he replied, before blinking in confusion. He hadn't actually meant to say that, it had just sort of slipped out. Why would he have –

"Huh? A soul? What?" the boy asked in confusion, but still holding the cross and stake up firmly.

"Never mind that right now, the important thing is – I'm not on _**his**_ side, if anything I'm on Buffy's," Angel replied, gesturing with his head over towards Spike. Who was now growling with a depth of bloodlust that made him nervous for the beautiful young Slayer he loved. "And that's why I didn't want you to distract her. All it takes is just one mistake, and Spike will kill her –"

"Spike?!" The boy was obviously familiar with the name, but then he was distracted by a crashing noise not far away – and Angel took the opportunity to slap the cross out of his hand and grab the stake as well, using all the supernatural speed he possessed.

"Oh, crap –" The immediate stink of the boy's fear was overwhelming. But before Angel had a chance to talk with the annoying child, to convince the teenager to leave and let him handle this, the mortal's eyes turned from brown to _**green**_ –

" _Your mission here will save lives, but you should ask yourself whether an alliance with the enemy might eventually make things worse as well. So do yourself a favor and become human, before it's too late._ "

Angel gasped, he somehow actually _**gasped**_ as he remembered Whistler's words from earlier today. About how one of the Powers had gone rogue, and had had some sort of long-term plan in mind where he was concerned. And a Seer of some sort, as well. Did this youth fit the bill?

And – wait a minute. There was a way for him to become _**human**_ again?

"Why are you looking at me like – oh, no, dammit, I don't freakin' believe this!" the boy suddenly exploded in unexpected anger. "I'm doing the Oracle thing for _**vampires**_ now?"

"You're an Oracle? Not a Seer?" Angel asked in confusion. Quickly dismissing that, he handed the stake over to the young man, and hoped that he would take it as the genuine gesture of trust it was. "No, never mind. Save Buffy now, get into the complicated explanations later?"

"Works for me," the boy agreed suspiciously. "Get moving, and hey – no funny business! Or our little truce is over."

"All right." Turning his back on the Oracle – Angel absently made a mental note to learn his name at some point – he strode over towards where the vampire and the Slayer were still fighting. It was amazing how neither of them had killed the other yet –

"BUFFY! SPIKE!"

His loud outburst immediately distracted both fighters, and as the two combatants instinctively drew apart, the Oracle quickly moved to grab Buffy and pull her off to the side. Or he tried to, anyway – the Slayer merely yanked the stake out of his hand and then roughly pushed _**him**_ aside, nearly causing the boy to fall over. Probably did nothing good for his teenage ego –

"Yeah, Peaches? What do _**you**_ want?" Spike asked sneeringly.

"You guys know each other? Oh, wait, almost forgot. Watcher-man mentioned how you two were related, sorta. Grandfather and grandson, right?" Buffy quipped, before looking at both Spike and himself with equal levels of disgust. "Huh, I think I can actually see the family resemblance."

"Oy! That's enough outta you, Slayer! Angelus and I are _**nothing**_ alike!" Spike protested angrily.

"Spike. Leave. Now. Trust me; this isn't the time for you to add a third Slayer notch on your belt," Angel said calmly, hiding the hurt he felt from Buffy's words as best he could.

"Yeah? And why should I do that, ponce? Not kill Betty 'ere and get my Slayer hat trick, I mean?" Spike asked, now looking somewhat amused.

"You once asked me to join you in order to kill the Master, Spike. And I said no. Think about it; why would I tell you to spare Buffy's life now? What would be in it for me?" Angel asked, hoping that the younger vampire would instantly jump to the wrong conclusion –

And from the way Spike's game face vanished and his human mask appeared, it certainly appeared as if he'd done so.

"OH! _**Now**_ I get it! Ah, hell, mate – this is effin' priceless!" Spike almost howled in laughter. "Using the bloody Chosen One to do yer dirty work fer you? Hafta admit, I never woulda thought o' that! Pulled the wool over everyone's eyes, you 'ave!"

Suddenly, William calmed down some. "Here, not that I'm sayin' get stuffed or anything, least not yet – but you _**do**_ realize that an alliance with the Slayer is something Darla's never gonna forgive you for, right? 'Specially if you're goin' up against her sire 'n all!"

"Darla – I'll do whatever I have to, where she's concerned. But that can wait for later. And come on, Spike, think about it – what other choice do you have? I mean, do you _**really**_ want the Master to get free and bring about the return of the Old Ones? Where do you think vampires like you and me will end up in the grand scheme of things, if that happens?"

"So, what? You two are siding against your own kind, just 'cause you don't want to become some ancient demon's bitch – and you wanna stay at the top of the food chain? Gee. Color me impressed," Buffy said disdainfully, glaring at both him and Spike.

Angel winced, but before he could say anything the Oracle boy spoke up: "Uh, Buffy? Two vampires, and only one of you. Pissing 'em off that way? Really _**not**_ the brightest idea imaginable!"

"Whelp's got a point, Slayer," Spike shrugged, before sending a glance towards the mortal. "And 'ang about, I remember you! You and that tottie with the big knockers, the one that Dru said was gonna become red in tooth and claw –"

"Stop. We don't have time for this! Spike, go – now. Before someone starts asking awkward questions once you get back to the Master's lair," Angel cut in forcefully. "And just in case Dru gets the wrong sort of vibes off of you before tomorrow night, avoid her as much as possible. Only – don't be too obvious about it. And while you're at it, sabotage as much of the Master's operation as you can –"

"'Ey! Don't you start with the orders like that, old man – 'cause I'm _**not**_ your ruddy servant!" Spike growled, slipping back into his demon face.

"Ruddy? Is that even a real word?" Buffy asked in confusion and annoyance.

Angel took that as his cue to vanish, speeding away into the dark shadows of the alley. He was gratified to see that Spike did likewise; it had been something of a concern that the former poet would be unable to control his anger and resume the fight with Buffy. But like Darla had said last month, Spike was obviously growing up – which only made him even more dangerous, of course.

Lurking out of sight, Angel shamelessly eavesdropped on the ensuing conversation between Buffy and – Xander? { _What kind of a name is that? No, never mind!_ } At least the boy was telling Buffy the truth about their encounter just now, while she'd been busy fighting Spike.

Now, what to do about that mystical warning the Oracle had given him – how allying himself with the enemy (whoever that really meant) might actually make things worse?

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** First off, my apologies - Wes George, I'm sorry I didn't thank you for your review in the previous chapter, total brain fart there. It was very much appreciated, just like every other review and PM and other feedback I get. And that's pretty much it for "Welcome To The Hellmouth", now we'll get started on the events of "The Harvest". Hope you liked what's happened so far, but even if you didn't, please review and tell me how I'm doing!


	18. Harvest Time

**Chapter Eighteen: Harvest Time**

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **January 10** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Harmony Kendall burst into the second floor girls' bathroom in a mad dash, looking mortified.

"Harmony?" Cordelia said in surprise, pausing right in the middle of reapplying her lip gloss. "What's wrong?"

The blonde girl rushed over to her side. "Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God – I heard it all. Sweetie, are you okay?"

Cordelia looked lost for a moment, but then quickly realized what Harmony had to be referring to. "Oh! Yeah. I mean, it was totally awful having Larry bump into me last night, and spilling his drink all over my brand new Versace dress – but I guess it coulda been worse, since I was already halfway out the Bronze's front door. Like, could you imagine the _**nightmare**_ if everyone had seen me looking like, like I was auditioning for a spot on _Girls Gone Wild_?"

"Right! I mean, yeah, totally," Harmony agreed, but then she shook her head. "But actually no, I wasn't talking about that – I mean, you musta heard about the rumor which started circulating this morning, right?"

"What rumor?"

"Uh, that you've got herpes?"

"WHAT?! Someone's been spreading that sort of lie about _**me?!**_ " Cordelia instantly felt livid. "Who?"

The blonde maneuvered herself in front of the mirror, continuing to talk while adjusting her appearance. "Well, personally, I think it's Willow –"

"Don't be ridiculous, Harm," Cordelia interrupted at once.

"Why am I being ridiculous?" Harmony wanted to know, frowning.

"Because that nerd's got everything to lose and nothing to gain, if our little Cold War starts heating up again," she replied disdainfully. "Besides. You're still pissed at her, after she publicly humiliated you and Gwen back then!"

Diverting her glance from her reflection, Harmony glanced back at Cordelia. She reluctantly admitted, "Well, yeah, I guess." But obviously not wanting acknowledging her mistake any longer, the airhead quickly changed the topic of conversation. "Still, getting back to what Larry did to you last night? Nuh-uh, mister, we've got rules here in Sunnydale – and so I say to him, you'll do that to my friend again over my dead body!"

"Uh, thanks," Cordelia said musingly, staring at Harmony in surprise.

She knew that even though she was pretty much universally acknowledged as the next generation of high school's leadership by this point, the slightest of mistakes could mean risking her fall from grace. So the thought of Harmony risking her own reputation to stand up for her, that was definitely – touching – to Cordelia's way of thinking.

Harmony, however, quickly interrupted her thoughts. "But hey, I'd _**so**_ hate to have to stop hanging out with you if it was otherwise, you know?"

"What?"

Harmony gushed, "I mean, whatever else he's done, Larry's sure to end up the new sophomore year quarterback soon – and he _**is**_ pretty cute! And if everyone turned on you because of the herpes rumor, I'd have no choice but to choose him – for my reputation and stuff, right? I mean – you know how these things are, right, Cordelia?" Harmony asked.

Cordelia's superior smile never faltered – but on the inside, she felt like she'd been slapped in the face at the foolishness of her previous thoughts. "Of course. After all, I'm Cordelia Chase," she said firmly.

"The one and only," Harmony nodded like a good minion.

Cordelia, seeing her supposed friend's expression reflected in the mirror, felt an abrupt pang of emptiness and desolation invade her heart and soul – but she quickly shrugged it off like so many times before. Putting up with this sort of thing was part of the price for popularity, after all.

{ _It didn't used to be,_ } that damn snide and irritating voice from the back of her head spoke up, as Harmony finally fixed her appearance properly and then departed the bathroom. { _In fact, there was a time you didn't give a damn about popularity. All you cared about was friendship,_ _ **true**_ _friendship. Like the kind you shared with the Dumbass, before he ruined everything during third grade._ }

Shut up! I don't want to even _**think**_ about Xander right now, Cordelia mentally gritted out.

{ _I'm not surprised. I mean, the way you publicly insulted both him and his friends last night? Wouldn't surprise me if your pseudo-boyfriend has started eyeing that Buffy girl appreciatively, by this point,_ } Snide  & Irritating voice fired back, sounding smug. { _And don't try to tell me that's impossible – you were warned by the guy himself about that, remember?_ }

Well, yeah. I mean no! I mean – grrrf, auggh! Dammit, that wasn't Xander – at least, not exactly. It was – well, whatever the hell is speaking through him, whenever that crap happens! And besides – we've been making out quite a bit lately, that's gotta count for something!

{ _Okay, who are you – and what have you done with the real Cordelia Chase?_ } Snide  & Irritating voice demanded incredulously. { _'Cause A, no it doesn't and B, Xander is pretty much_ _ **irrelevant**_ _right at the moment!_ }

Huh? Why?

{ _What, have you forgotten what Harmony said just now? Someone's started spreading lies about you – probably one of your so-called 'friends.' So you need to deal with that herpes rumor, like_ _ **immediately**_ _! And until the guilty party has been dealt with, the Doofus can make do with his hand, instead of you!_ }

The dark scowl marring Cordelia's gorgeous features was kinda ugly, but as she left the bathroom, it suited her new mood perfectly.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

Xander was worried.

Not so much for himself – although after having encountered that Spike guy again last night, he knew he should be – but for Cordelia. Apparently, that nutty female vampire – Drusilla, the mad Seer – had prophesized that Cordy would become 'red in tooth and claw.' And from all the reading he had done so far this morning, that description didn't exactly fill him with a case of the warm fuzzies or anything.

"Ah, Mr. Harris. What are you doing here so early?" a British-accented voice said, and Harris turned to look at the librarian. He blinked; Mr. Wyndam-Pryce was wearing the same (wrinkled) clothes he'd had on yesterday, and judging by appearances, the guy probably hadn't slept at all. { _All-night study session, maybe? Uh-oh..._ }

"Nothing much. Uh, just – research," Xander replied vaguely. "Did you spend the night here?"

"Yes. Research duty, like yourself. And God help us, but I don't like what I've learned so far," the librarian shook his head.

"Yeah? Which is what, exactly?"

"Please don't ask. This is strictly Slayer business," the annoying foreigner shook his head again.

"Well, seeing as how Buffy's the Slayer, and she said I'm supposed to help her get rid of every vampire on the planet one day –" he started to argue.

"Oh ye gods, I'd almost forgotten. You're right! There's a chance we may actually survive this!" Mr. Wyndam-Pryce seemed to brighten up considerably.

{ _Okay, now I'm definitely starting to get a serious wiggins. Survive what?_ } Xander thought to himself with mounting fear.

Before he could ask the librarian to explain, Willow and Jesse came blasting through the double doors of the library. The male part of the equation looked grim, but if anything the female one looked rather – smug. Xander was instantly distracted from his previous train of thought as he said, "Guys, what's up?"

"You haven't heard?" Jesse demanded, looking astonished.

"Yeah, Xander, the rumors are like all over the place today!" Willow nodded.

"What rumors?" Mr. Wyndam-Pryce asked, looking concerned.

"That Cordelia has a venereal disease of some kind!" Jesse replied, which caused the librarian to groan and Xander himself to stare at his best friend in astonishment.

"Good heavens, is _**that**_ what you're all focusing on?" Mr. Wyndam-Pryce asked his best buds, now looking exasperated.

"Hey, it's a big deal! I mean, do you have any idea what kind of damage that can do to a girl's reputation around here?" Willow demanded of the Englishman.

Mr. Wyndam-Pryce shook his head and said, "No, and neither do I care! We've got far worse problems right now!"

"You obviously haven't seen Cordelia Chase on the warpath yet," Xander muttered. But before he could say anything more, Buffy walked into the library.

"Morning. Hey, Wes, you're looking kinda ragged there – what, did you sleep in your clothes last night?" the Slayer asked, taking in the man's appearance.

"As a matter of fact, I never got any sleep at all –" the librarian started to say, before Willow interrupted him.

"Buffy, have you heard the rumors today?" the redhead asked.

"You mean, the ones about Cordelia having herpes? Yeah," the brownish-blonde girl nodded, with a look of distaste appearing on her face. "Nasty thing to have to deal with. You got any idea who started it?" She abruptly looked at him. "Or who could have given the VD to her, if the rumors are true?"

Xander scowled at her. When they'd first met yesterday, he'd initially thought Buffy Summers was a total babe, a complete knockout; and under different circumstances, he probably would have fallen in love with her immediately. The Xander Harris he'd been less than a year ago certainly would have, without a doubt.

But there was more to her than just the beautiful face and incredible body – Xander knew that from last night, the way she'd grabbed his wooden stake and then casually shoved him aside, only having eyes for the two vampires in the alley. Buffy Summers was an empowered warrior, a fighter, a... a slayer. The title suited her.

And while that would normally have been even more of a turn-on – Xander knew himself well enough to have figured out that he had a thing for strong women, it was why Marcie Ross had never gotten anywhere with him, despite following him around for roughly a month back then – in Buffy's case...

She'd revealed that he was an Oracle to her Watcher yesterday, without even wondering whether she had any right to do so. She'd refused to listen to him last night, when he'd told her that that Angel guy might not actually be an enemy. And the way Buffy had acted when they'd first met, like he had no choice other than to help her get rid of every vampire in this world when the time came –

"Nope. And if that's your way of asking whether or not I have herpes as well? Then the answer is no, I don't," he replied to Buffy's question, noting the blush instantly appearing on the new girl's cheeks.

"Xander! Don't be so rude," Willow admonished him at once, causing him to look at her in surprise.

"Yeah! Dude, that was like totally uncalled for," Jesse frowned at him.

"I'm being rude? What _**I**_ said was totally uncalled for?" Xander demanded hotly, starting to glare at his friends.

"EXCUSE ME!" Mr. Wyndam-Pryce suddenly shouted, as everyone turned to stare at him. He then said more calmly, "Now, if perhaps you've finished with all this teenage _**foolishness?**_ Maybe we could move on to more important matters!"

"Like what?" Jesse asked, shrugging.

"Please go away, Mr. McNally. This has nothing to do with you," the librarian said impatiently.

"Nuh-uh, he's not going anywhere," Buffy shook her head, grabbing Jesse's arm and not letting him depart. "Jesse wants to help like Willow and Xander, I'm not gonna tell him to get lost!"

Xander stayed silent, while examining the appreciative and semi-worshipful look on Jesse's face as he stared at Buffy. It somehow reminded him of the look he had seen on Jesse's pet dog, a beagle named 'Max' from back when they were little kids. { _Hrmm. Am I seeing the start of my best friend finally moving on from his hopeless crush on Cordelia?_ }

"Right. You're the Slayer, and, and we're your Slayerettes," Willow beamed in reply to Buffy's comment.

"What? No! The Slayer doesn't have, uh, groupies! She has her Watcher from the Council. And that's all she needs," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce blustered.

"Really. Because back when I killed Lothos and his vamps? I coulda done with some backup other than just my friend, Pike! So where was your precious Council when I actually needed the assist, Wes? After Merrick got killed, I was fighting all on my lonesome for nearly two months – remember?" Buffy asked icily.

"I, errr, well, that is, um..." the British man stammered, looking embarrassed. "I, I don't know, Miss Summers. That wasn't covered as part of my briefing for taking over as your Watcher, I'm afraid."

"Gee, I wonder why?" Willow rolled her eyes. "Seriously, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce –"

"Oh, just call him Wesley. Or even Wes, the way I do," Buffy abruptly smiled. "I'm thinking we're all gonna be working together a lot until May, so no point in standing on formality."

"Well, not if the end of the world takes place soon, like I'm very much afraid it will," the Watcher ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking very tired.

"What?" everyone chorused, and Xander was somewhat surprised to find his own voice saying that.

"According to what I've discovered, roughly sixty years ago – a very old, and very powerful vampire calling himself the Master came here to this town, and not just to feed. He wanted to open the Hellmouth – it's a sort of portal between this reality, and one of the nastier hell dimensions out there. He failed, but had he succeeded, the Old Ones would have returned and, and Armageddon would have taken place," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce said ominously.

"So, this Master guy, he's still around – and he's gonna go in for a repeat performance?" Willow asked, looking concerned.

"Yes. According to what Miss Summers told me last night, the Harvest – a ritual to free the Master, who's apparently imprisoned somewhere – will be taking place soon. There will be a massacre of some kind, thanks to something called the Vessel; a vampire chosen to bond with the Master and supply him with his or her strength. And once he's free –" the Watcher said.

"Apocalypse now. And we're not talkin' the classic movie with Marlon Brando starring as Colonel Kurtz," Xander interrupted. "When, exactly?"

"I, uh, I don't know. I know that the star alignments for the ritual of the Harvest occur roughly once a century, but other than 'soon' – well, I'm rather in the dark in terms of timing," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce admitted.

"Find out fast," Buffy ordered him in no uncertain terms, before the bell rang and then all four of them left the library.

* * *

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **Later that evening**

All the vampires were gathered for the big occasion.

The chaos and destruction from the previous evening had been cleared away, and by unspoken understanding, no one spoke of it if they didn't want the Master to fly into a rage and slaughter them out of hand. Even Spike had understood that, once his great-great grandsire had awoken and sent him and Darla out to obtain new offerings for his 'last supper.'

(And if he couldn't help chuckling over the name 'Heinrich' in the privacy of his own mind, then that wasn't a major deal as far as Spike was concerned. Bloke needed a good laugh every now and then, after all.)

Still, that meeting with Angelus while he'd been fighting the Slayer – Spike couldn't help but admire his grandsire's audacity. To think, the old man had actually decided to use the Chosen One to prevent the Master from destroying all the blood bags in the world – bloody brilliant, that was! Spike was almost sorry there hadn't been any time to update Angelus on the whole 'Dark Lady' debacle, as doubtless he'd have gotten a kick out of how Heinrich had been given a taste of his own medicine by that deity. Or whatever had possessed that Cassie Newton girl.

But that was then and this was now, and Spike knew he had to forget about the past and focus on the present.

In the darkness lit only by torches, Darla approached the Master and knelt before him. Both he and Drusilla, only a short distance away, watched as the ritual for the Harvest began; him with barely concealed trepidation, but her with great interest.

The Master offered his hand to Darla, who took it and kissed it. She then released him and the Master turned his arm over, to offer her the underside of his wrist. Darla opened the cuff of the Master's sleeve and pulled it back. She took his hand again, sank her fangs into the wrist and drank deeply of the blood. Finally, she released her sire's hand and the Master stepped back.

"My blood is your blood. My essence is your essence," Heinrich intoned solemnly.

"My body is your instrument," Darla said simply.

The Master stepped over to the female vamp and began to draw a three-pointed star on her forehead with the blood still flowing from his wrist. "On this... most hallowed night... we are as one. Darla is the Vessel!"

{ _Big surprise,_ } Spike thought to himself sarcastically. He deliberately prevented himself from thinking anything else, though, recalling his grandsire's advice on not letting Drusilla pick up any 'vibes' that might screw up the plan. So he concentrated on memories of sex between him and his beloved, instead.

Their first time together in 1880. Both times after he had killed a Slayer, during 1900 and 1977. Even during the voyage to America aboard the _Quintessa_ –

To Spike's relief, Dru just smiled at him lovingly before she continued to watch the rite taking place in semi-rapture. { _Oh, c'mon, luv! Not_ _ **that**_ _interesting, izzit?_ }

The Master continued, "Every soul the Vessel takes will feed me. And their souls will grant me the strength to free myself. Tonight I shall walk the Earth, and the stars themselves will hide!"

Spike just rolled his eyes, unable to help himself. { _Believing your own propaganda now, are you?_ }

* * *

 **The Bronze, Sunnydale**

 **Not long after sunset**

Cordelia was present with her entourage inside the teen club, and she was happy that things were finally back to normal. Which just so happened to mean that she had properly punished the perpetrator of that vile and vicious rumor earlier today – Larry Blaisdell himself, oddly enough – by kicking that would-be quarterback directly in the nuts.

In full view of all his friends on the football team, who had grimaced and clutched at their own private parts out of reflex sympathy pain.

Which they totally should have! Hopefully, the big jerk had learned his lesson never to mess that way with her again. Cordelia knew that even though Larry's head was almost as thick as Daddy's private vault, he could actually think when properly motivated to do so.

Just then, someone cut the power and the club was plunged into darkness.

"Ladies and gentlemen! Good evening, my name is Darla. Don't worry, there's no cause for alarm," the blonde woman with some kind of weird three-pointed star painted on her forehead said, as a spotlight shone down on her.

"I thought there wasn't any band tonight?" Cordelia asked her second-in-command, frowning.

"That's what I heard, too!" Harmony quickly agreed.

Then as Darla's vampire face appeared, the bloodsucker added, "Well, actually, there is. It just won't do any of you any good!"

Cordelia instantly screamed like a horror movie actress. { _Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God! It's happening all over again!_ }

The Billy Idol wannabe from all those months ago (oh, no, this really _**was**_ a nightmare come to life!) dragged the bouncer over to Darla, who stared at the black man hungrily. Cordy heard her say, "This is a glorious night! Unfortunately for you, it's also the last one that you'll ever see."

"What do you mean? What do you guys want? You want money? Oh man, lady, what's wrong with your face?" the bouncer demanded.

Darla just grabbed the guy and drank deeply, before letting the corpse fall to the floor. Seeing this, Cordelia looked around for somewhere to hide, knowing that all her Cordettes had already abandoned her – but not knowing that outside the Bronze, the good guys had finally arrived.

"Another! Now!" Darla shouted. She soon started feeding on a female teen that one of the vamps brought to her, before dropping that dead body to the ground as well.

"I CAN FEEL THE MASTER'S STRENGTH GROWING!" Darla then screamed in exultation, giving Cordelia a case of the creeping horrors. "I can feel him rising. Every soul brings him closer to release! Bring me another!"

A few moments later, a terrified Cordelia looked up after hearing the sounds of battle – and then she saw Buffy kick a vampire down to the ground floor from the upstairs level. The Slayer came to the railing and said to the audience below, "Oh, I'm sorry, were you in the middle of something?"

{ _Oh thank God!_ } Cordy thought to herself in relief. { _The cavalry's here!_ }

"Who are you?!" hissed Darla.

Buffy said cheerfully, "What, you didn't know? I'm the Chosen One. Be right down!" just before she jumped over the railing down to the ground floor of the Bronze.

Darla came forward, and the fight quickly got started. Cordelia saw Buffy land a strong backhand punch into her enemy's face, sending her tumbling away. Then the new girl in town grabbed a cymbal from the drum set next to her and threw it like a Frisbee. "Heads up!"

Decapitated, the vampire attempting to feed on another of the Cordettes dusted at once. Buffy just chuckled a little at her own joke, before Darla came at her again and the fight was resumed.

Cordelia was too busy running for it to notice, though. And a few seconds later, she crashed into a very familiar male body. "Xander?!"

"Yeah. Sorry I'm late, sweetheart – me, Will, Jesse, and Mr. Wyndam-Pryce kinda had to break in through the back," the Dweeb told her, before she instinctively grabbed him and kissed the ever-loving heck out of him.

"So _**not**_ the time for that!" Cordelia heard Willow hiss at them, before she broke away from her Doofus.

"Oh dear God," Mr. Windy Price-tag muttered, looking terrified what with all the vampires surrounding them. Great, he was obviously useless right now –

"Come on! Let's go, let's go!" Stalker Boy said quietly, as he attempted to hustle the patrons out of the establishment.

With her sticking close by his side Xander started to grab people, whispering at them, "Hurry up! Come on! Through this door! Come on! This way!"

"We're gonna have to open the front door, too. This is taking too long, isn't it?" Cordelia heard Willow ask the librarian, distracting her briefly.

"Yes, I'm afraid so, damn it all..." Mr. Windy Price-tag muttered, finally looking like he was no longer paralyzed with fear. About freaking time, in her view –

"Urrrkkk!" Cordelia abruptly choked as a cold, clammy hand grabbed her around the neck and lifted her up off the ground.

"Let her go!" Harris demanded, a wooden stake appearing in his hand just before she caught a glimpse of her captor. Instantly terrified, Cordelia started struggling to get loose –

"Not bloody likely, mate. I wanna know just what makes you two so important to that so-called Dark Lady," Spike (that was what Mr. Windy Price-tag had said his name was, right?) said, those horribly yellow eyes of his narrowing into slits.

Straightaway, Idiot Boy attacked the vampire (oh ye gods, was he trying to get himself _**killed**_ or something?!) but Captain Peroxide simply reached out his other arm and grabbed him by the neck as well. Cordelia tried to keep calm, even though she had already lost all semblance of courage and a sizeable chunk of her sanity –

"Do you _**want**_ to die, you stupid berk?" the monster asked maliciously and contemptuously.

Then it happened; Xander's eyes turned green, starting to sparkle and shimmer –

" _Your sire cannot help being what she is, but thanks to her recent actions, Heinrich will not tolerate the Seer's existence for much longer. So do nothing, and you will witness her become ashes soon enough."_

Then as his eyes changed back, Xander kicked the vampire in his left knee. Hard, too, if the vampire's facial expression was any indicator, as the evil freak casually tossed her aside.

Spike growled like a rabid Doberman, the anger and bloodlust easily visible on his face as he squeezed Xander's neck tighter. Fortunately, that Dru thing grabbed his arm, pulling the British guy away as her boyfr- her, uh, whatever fell to the floor.

"No, Spoike! Remember what She said! Besides, we 'ave to go! Grandmother won't win against the awful Slayer!" the crazy bitch said urgently.

Cordelia started gulping in deep breaths as Xander crawled over and lifted her up off the floor, even as the two vampires ran off. The feelings of relief almost overwhelming her completely, she almost sagged into his arms as Harris asked hoarsely, "Honey, are you okay?"

"My neck is aching, my ass is bruised, and my outfit is like totally ruined! What do you think?!" she snapped at him heatedly.

The Doofus just gave her that lopsided smile she couldn't help finding totally attractive and endearing, the one he had inherited from his father. "Glad you're all right, sweetheart. Come on, we gotta keep evacuating everyone outta here!"

They did so whilst up on the dance floor, Buffy and Darla continued their deadly duel. Out of the corner of her eye, Cordelia saw Buffy launch into a full spinning hook kick, but the bad guy – girl – whatever ducked, and punched her adversary. Buffy staggered back but then grabbed Darla's arm and gave her three roundhouse kicks to the stomach, before the undead blonde shook her off. Blocking the Slayer's next lunge, and then knocking the stake out of her grip, the female vampire managed to drag her enemy down to the ground – and her fangs lunged for Buffy's throat.

Just as a stake in the back punched through directly into her heart.

As the Darla thing exploded into ashes thanks to Stalker Boy's _**excellent**_ timing (for once), Cordelia saw all the other vampires in the club freeze in dismay. { _Okay, what's going to happen now? Are they gonna come rushing at us for revenge, or simply turn around and run for it?_ }

She witnessed Buffy get up, briefly thank Jesse for his actions and then glare at the few vampires directly in front of her. Straightaway, they decided to run for it. The rest of the undead quickly followed. Knowing pack behavior the way she did, Cordy wasn't exactly surprised.

{ _Cowards,_ } she thought to herself in contemptuous relief, but still clinging tightly to Xander like her life depended on it.

"Is it over?" Nerd Girl asked fearfully, looking at the wreckage all around them.

"For now, I-I suspect so," Mr. Windy Price-tag answered worriedly, likewise looking around at the damage.

"Uh, did we win?" Cordelia asked, looking around at the dead bodies littering the club. Not everyone had survived, that was for sure – the vampires had obviously killed a few people before fleeing –

"Well, we're all still alive, so I'd give us a definite 'I think so'," Xander rubbed his neck absently, his voice still hoarse and rough like before.

"And we averted the apocalypse. I'd give us points for that, too!" Buffy added in her own two cents.

Jesse looked resigned more than anything else. "One thing's for sure. Nothing's ever gonna be the same after this."

* * *

 **Outside the Bronze, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

Dr. Weirick ran away from the nightclub as fast as he could, panicking wildly in the midst of the crowd – who were also running as fast as they could. The zookeeper had no idea what had happened inside the Bronze – a place he planned never to visit again, for the rest of his life – but whatever had gone down, one thing was now perfectly clear.

He had to bring those hyenas over from Africa as soon as possible, and figure out how to do that rite of trans-possession in order to empower himself.

Dr. Weirick knew that there was simply no other option – not if he didn't want to end up as just another victim to whatever those _**things**_ were that had started indiscriminately killing people just now.

TBC...

* * *

 **A/N:** And, done. The end?

No way. :-D

Seriously, there's still a lot more of this story to be told, and your feedback and reviews definitely inspire me to keep publishing chapters regularly. Major thanks to everyone to who've been reading and reviewing, as always, and I hope you continue to keep telling me what you think of this fanfic!


	19. Aftermaths, Part II

**Chapter Nineteen: Aftermaths, Part II**

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **January 10** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

The Master, waiting impatiently for the ritual of the Harvest to finally free him from his prison, pressed against the mystical barriers – but they held firm, the air visibly rippling and the invisible bars of his cage preventing him from going anywhere.

{ _Soon,_ } he thought to himself, but a lot less confidently than he otherwise would have. He hadn't forgotten what had transpired in this never-to-be-sufficiently-damned house of worship less than twenty-four hours ago, after all.

How could he have? He had been – utterly humiliated. Humbled in a way that hadn't happened in centuries! Shamed and degraded to such a level that he couldn't help being _**grateful**_ how the only witnesses had been Darla, Drusilla and William. Luckily, they were all old enough to know to keep their mouths shut, without him having to command them to do it. If any of the minions had survived, and started spreading the word of what had happened –

{ _No. No point in thinking about that,_ } Heinrich thought firmly. { _And no point in thinking about what that – deity – said, either. That way lies only madness!_ }

The Master suddenly frowned, recalling all the esoteric knowledge he had picked up over the past millennium. His former lieutenant named Absalom – a pity that he had struck out on his own decades ago, but at the time, it had seemed like the right thing for him to do – had occasionally mentioned the Higher Planes, where the so-called Elder Gods were reputed to dwell; as well as the Powers That Be. Heinrich had also heard of various heavens and hells, where the Lesser Gods were rumored to exist; Janus, Diana, Wotan and the rest of their ilk. And last night, he had actually survived an encounter with one of them?

It reminded him of the ancient tales he had heard as a mortal; of the battles between Heracles and Ares. Between Perseus and Medusa. Between Gilgamesh and Inanna, even. Stories which were even more _**intense**_ than the relatively tame legends that existed today; before the passage of time had erased the true details from living memory. { _What was Drusilla thinking, attempting to summon something like that? And_ _ **succeeding**_ _?_ }

The Master suddenly decided that on balance, the mad Seer was actually more trouble than she was worth. Once he was free, despite her usefulness, she would have to go. Both her and William; he would have Darla execute them both, and then bring about the return of the Old Ones at last. And once that happened – humanity would be reduced to nothing but a memory, soon enough!

{ _Soon enough, indeed._ } Damnation, but how much longer did he have to wait? Shouldn't his children have succeeded in freeing him by now?

Heinrich's patience was at last rewarded when Darla started to feed. His strength growing, the Master started pressing against the walls of his prison. They grew weaker and weaker, but then suddenly –

"Noooooooo! Noooooooo!" he screamed, falling to his knees. Darla was gone! He could feel it – the Vessel was no more.

All his hopes for escape now lay in ruins – just as that nameless goddess, or the Dark Lady, or whatever you wanted to call her, had prophesized last night.

The Master instantly erupted into a childish temper tantrum, trashing his immediate surroundings, before he finally stopped; glad, again, that no one was present to see him lose all self-control like this. His rage not lessening in the least, he waited for his followers to return – and when they did, he demanded to know what had happened.

"A Slayer? One of the Chosen is present on the Hellmouth? Why wasn't I told of this before?" Heinrich demanded of the minion named Colin, who was the only one brave enough to report what had happened inside the Bronze.

"I don't know, Master," Colin replied, still kneeling with his head bowed. "All I know is that she fought the Vessel, and won. I'm sorry, we failed you –"

"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!" the Master roared, kicking him in the head and seemingly paying no attention as the younger vampire crawled away on his hands and knees. But then he shouted, "WAIT!"

"Yes, Master?" Colin stopped and slowly got to his feet, his head still bowed.

"What of Drusilla, and William? Did _**they**_ survive this, this debacle?" Heinrich demanded angrily.

"Yeah, that we did," William's unmistakable, accented voice barked out as he and his sire entered the cavern. "Thanks for asking, oh Master."

"No thanks are necessary. Because you failed me."

The Master's tone was not a nice one, as he glared at the new arrivals. "Darla was my favorite, for nearly four hundred years. And you failed her, as well."

There was naught but silence, as the two new arrivals stared at him. "Well? Anything to say?" Heinrich requested silkily, even though his new tone easily hinted at mind-numbing violence.

"Not really. Apart from the Slayer fought better th'n Darla, 'n dusted her. What else is there ta say?" William shrugged, coming close enough to be within arm's length – almost.

"How you and Drusilla survived this... fiasco, for one thing," the Master suddenly snarled, now ready to tear this young upstart's heart out. At long last.

"Well, that'd be telling. NOW, DRU!"

Many things then seemed to happen very quickly.

Colin was staked in the back and dusted, as Dru came forward.

William dived out past the borders of the mystical barrier, distracting him for a few seconds.

Drusilla threw a Molotov cocktail at him, even if he managed to deflect it at the last moment. But when it impacted against the wall, the entire chamber seemed to go up in flames.

"NOOOOOO!" the Master screamed, as the fire spread everywhere.

"Oooh – hullo, burning baby walruses," he vaguely heard Drusilla say, as he looked for a way to escape. But there was nowhere to run, and then he was hit by a second cocktail, which quickly burned the ancient flesh away from his bones.

Soon there was nothing left of him but a skeleton that William smashed to pieces, once the blaze had exhausted itself.

And as his demonic spirit was sent back to the dark hell of its origin, the Master swore to himself that somehow, some way, his murderers would _**pay**_ for this –

* * *

 **Main quad, Sunnydale High School**

 **January 13** **th** **, 1997**

Xander saw Buffy and Jesse walking along before Willow and Mr. Wyndam-Pryce joined them, and then an animated conversation seemed to take place between the four of 'em. He was just about to join the gang, when he abruptly decided not to. He didn't know why, exactly – but by this point, he had learned to trust his instincts about such things.

Xander looked around, and as far as he could tell, it was just another Monday morning as far as the rest of the students were concerned. As in get up, go to school, listen to the teachers and goof off between classes. It was pretty surprising, especially since he could see quite a number of kids who had been at the Bronze on Friday night. And they weren't freaking out over what had happened?

Okay, the town newspaper had said that the deaths had been the result of a 'gang war' of some sort, rivals fighting over turf – with innocent bystanders getting killed in the crossfire. But his classmates had been there that night, hadn't they? They had to have seen the truth for themselves! They had to have seen the vampires killing people. They had to have seen –

"What the fuck is going on, Harris?" Xander heard a familiar male voice say, just before a hand grabbed him by the shoulder and roughly turned him around.

"Gonna hafta be bit more specific than that, Kyle," Harris drawled slightly. He didn't look into the bully's eyes, but quickly darted a look towards Rhonda, Tor and Heidi instead. All of them were looking serious today, instead of the usual smirks and sneers. { _Crap. This could be trouble!_ }

"You once said to me, and I quote: 'your life will undergo drastic upheaval before you find your true path, but be wary how much danger you'll face until that happens.' Thinking what happened on Friday night qualifies, Xan," Tor spoke up, moving forward. "So, like Kyle said. Wanna tell us what's goin' on?"

"Honestly? No," he replied simply. "I don't."

"Okay, maybe you don't get it. But this isn't a request," Rhonda growled at him, coming forward and standing next to her boyfriend.

"She's right, Harris. We wanna know what happened, and don't try to feed us the same BS that appeared in the Saturday morning edition of the _Sunnydale Press_ ," Heidi walked forward as well, her left arm automatically going around Hauer's waist.

"Right, right. But what makes ya think I know anything 'bout what really happened that night?" Xander asked, still avoiding eye contact with the four bullies.

"We were there, we saw you and Cordelia right in the thick of it," Tor said, his eyes narrowing. "Saw one of those so-called gang members hoist you and your girlfriend up into the air, after grabbing you both by the neck. Ain't nobody that strong, though. No one normal, anyway. So, what do ya have to say 'bout that?"

Xander shrugged, deliberately misinterpreting the question. "I dunno what you're talkin' about, Tor. I mean, ask anybody – they'll tell you I don't have a girlfriend, least of all Cordelia!"

"Quit playin' games, Harris, I'm sure as hell not in the mood for _**that**_ crap!" Kyle said furiously. Walking well into Xander's personal space, he hissed, "Now start talking. Or my fist is gonna totally cave in your face!"

"Really?" a British-accented voice said disapprovingly, and Xander felt a profound sense of relief as Kyle and his three friends instinctively recoiled away from him. He glanced in Mr. Wyndam-Pryce's direction as the Watcher added, "Well, I rather suspect Mr. Flutie would be very interested in knowing that. So, shall I arrange a meeting to inform him of your intentions?"

"No, sir," Kyle said thickly, looking down and unwilling to meet the librarian's eyes. "No need, I was just kidding. 'Sides, we were just going. Right, guys?"

"Yup," Tor nodded slowly. Unlike DuFours, Hauer had no problem looking the adult directly in the eye; so Xander couldn't help but admire his guts for that. "Time for us to mosey on outta here."

"I'm glad to hear it," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce said icily. "And may I suggest you consider your future actions very carefully, you and your companions both? In fact, I'd recommend avoiding Mr. Harris here completely from now on, or else the school headmaster will become aware of this conversation. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal," Heidi nodded, starting to pull Tor away. "Let's go, hon."

"You got lucky, Harris," Kyle muttered under his breath, his voice so low that Xander could barely make out the words. "Another time, asshole..." Then both he and Rhonda walked off.

"Are you all right?" Xander heard the Watcher ask, before he turned to face him.

"Yeah, uh, those four were basically all talk just now. Coulda gotten nasty if you hadn't shown up, though, I hafta admit," Xander shrugged slightly. "Thanks."

"You're, um, you're welcome," the librarian took off his glasses and started polishing them with a handkerchief he took out of his jacket pocket.

"They raised some good points, though. I mean, the walking dead were in full view of everybody at the Bronze a few nights ago! So why isn't everyone making with the freak-out, I wonder?" Xander asked curiously.

The Englishman shook his head. "As I said to Miss Summers and her friends a few moments ago, most people rationalize what they can and forget what they can't where the supernatural is concerned. Besides, we're standing on the center of a mystical convergence here, a Hellmouth. I rather suspect its infernal energy encourages or even forces people to do such things, in order to maintain their own sanity. The Council's archives are full of stories –"

"Yeah, that's great, seriously," Xander interrupted. "But really not in the mood to hear 'em right now. So, anything else I can help you with?"

Mr. Wyndam-Pryce looked at him rather oddly. "Yes, actually. Could we go somewhere private to discuss it, though? This place is a tad – public – for my taste."

"Yeah, guess I got a bit of time before first period. Library?" Xander asked straightforwardly.

"Quite so, follow me."

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **A few minutes later**

Wesley was feeling rather nervous, even though he didn't understand why.

Well, all right – maybe he did, a little.

After all, even he knew he hadn't made the best impression on his Slayer and her friends during the battle a few nights ago. It had been _**nothing**_ like the Academy test which involved encountering a captive vampire, and he'd made a rather poor show of things. Damn and blast. Still, he'd resolved to do better. And there was no better time than the present to do that.

Plus, it wasn't every day that one had the opportunity to interact with a genuine Oracle like this.

The Harris boy also represented an opportunity – a great opportunity, actually. If the Oracle was indeed destined to help his Slayer bring about the end of the undead, once and for all – then he would need an adult's guidance, and so it behooved him to get to play the part of mentor and advisor. This, in turn, meant getting to know the lad better.

"So. What did ya want to talk about?" Mr. Harris asked abruptly.

"Ah, yes. Well, as you know, during our initial meeting with Miss Summers last week, quite a number of things were discussed. Issues which had to be put aside at that moment, given the impending apocalypse – but now, we have some time to, ah, properly discuss them, so to speak."

The young man raised an eyebrow slightly. "Again, I'll ask. What exactly did ya want to talk about?"

"How, precisely, did you become an Oracle?" Wesley asked bluntly, before wincing slightly. "No, wait, let me rephrase that. I've heard about that Madam Devora person, of course, but – what exactly did she do to you, to make you the sort of... entity you are today?"

"Entity?" Harris cocked his head slightly. "Is that what you think I am? That I don't qualify as human anymore?"

"No, of course not!" Wesley said hurriedly, cursing his poor choice of words. "You're obviously still human, I just meant – well, uh, what exactly should I call you that, that won't sound rude or offensive?"

"Not sure," his companion shook his head. "But I guess using my name couldn't hurt."

"Very well, Mr. Harris –"

"Mr. Harris is my father. And he's not here right now," the Oracle interrupted. "Better just call me Xander."

"Very well, Xander," Wes made an effort not to wince again. "Now I'd like to ask –"

"Question, first. Who else knows about me?" the Oracle interrupted again. "Who have you told about what I can do? Your bosses in England?"

"Well, no. I mean, uh, I haven't told anyone on the Council yet –"

"Good. Don't."

That order made Wesley blink in confusion. "Excuse me? Errr, why not?"

"Try putting yourself in my shoes for a second," Harris looked at him challengingly. "How do I know someone over there in the land of bangers and mash won't get the bright idea to swoop into town and kidnap me, for whatever reason? Whether it's to keep me 'safe' somewhere other than Sunnydale – or to lock me up in a cage in order to 'perform' for them, as Cordy would put it. How do I know that won't happen, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce?"

Wesley was insulted, but tried not to let it show. "I can assure you, the Council wouldn't do that – it has nothing but the best interests of humanity at heart. Over the centuries, we've often been the only thing present to make sure the sun still rises the next morning, averting any number of apocalypses –"

"Wait a second. I thought it was the Slayer who did that? You guys just play the part of a – a drill sergeant and an information source, or something like that," the Oracle interrupted, looking somewhat confused.

"Well, yes," Wesley admitted. "But without the guidance of her Watcher and the Council, the Slayer couldn't possibly function –"

"And yet, Buffy did it after her old Watcher was killed?"

He exhaled in annoyance and replied, "She couldn't function _**long term**_ would be a better way to put it, Mr. Harris. There are any number of vampires and demons out there who would make sure of it, unfortunately. And in regards to that, I was wondering – what exactly do you know about this prophecy which says Miss Summers might banish all the undead from this plane, a few months hence?"

"Nothing. Well, uh, make that nothing you don't already know," Xander shrugged. "Seriously, I got zip here on how I'm supposed to help Slay-gal make that happen!"

Wesley winced again over the way the male teen was abusing the Queen's English, but put it aside to focus on more important matters. "Well, then, let's go back to the beginning. Tell me what happened to turn you into an Oracle."

"Why? You think you can undo it?"

"What? Uh, why on earth would I want to-?" Wes asked in confusion.

"And _**that's**_ the reason right there why I don't trust you with the details yet," the boy interrupted yet again, scowling. "You can't help thinking of me as some sort of – commodity, can you? Something that's a... a _**factor**_ in your plans. Buffy's pretty much the same; only she just wants to be free of the Chosen One gig, once and for all."

"That's ridiculous!" Wesley exploded in annoyance and confusion. "What in heaven's name are you talking about? It's, it's an honor for any Potential to be Called as the Slayer!"

"The way you see it, sure. But not the way the Buffster sees it! Or did it never occur to you that she's not happy about all this? 'Cause way I heard it, she woke up one day with superpowers she never asked for, drafted into a war against all the monsters out there – one of which will eventually kill her? And sooner rather than later, I'm guessing. How long do Slayers live for, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce? Or does that not matter to you? Is the only thing you care about is that it's some kinda 'honor' for Buffy to fight and die for your cause?"

He immediately felt uncomfortable at the accusing gaze being sent his way. "You – do raise some salient points. In fact, they've been debated a great deal within the Council's ranks during recent years. But the fact of the matter is, sometimes, sacrifices have to be made for the greater good –"

"My dad served in the military, just like my Uncle Rory," the Oracle interrupted yet again. "When I was younger, Unc told me what it was like during Vietnam – how a lot of the draftees were pissed off at being forced to fight against an enemy they'd never met, in a war they never chose – so don't give me that 'greater good' crap, mister. Fighting the good fight has to be voluntary, or else it's slavery, by any other name! That's why I can get where Buffy's coming from, even if you can't."

"We seem to have wandered off the point, and quite a bit," Wesley said stiffly, distinctly unhappy with how this conversation had turned out. "Namely, how to save lives by getting rid of the undead, once and for all."

"Like I said, I got nothing there," Xander shrugged. Then he frowned. "But maybe..."

"Maybe what?"

The annoying adolescent straightened up, and turned to face him. "Maybe I can give you some advice on that. Look at me."

"Advice? I, I don't understand what you mean," Wesley said in confusion, as he met the young man's gaze.

"Whether I like it or not, I'm an Oracle now. So what do you _**think**_ I mean?" the youth demanded, his brown eyes gazing into Wesley's pale blue ones.

For a moment, he couldn't quite grasp what he was hearing – but then he did. { _Oh my!_ } "Ah, a-are you sure about this? I mean, what exactly happens when you do, uh, whatever it is you do?"

"Far as I'm concerned, nothing happens. Nothing I can ever remember, anyway," the lad shrugged. "But everyone tells me my eyes turn green, and sorta sparkly 'n shimmery as well, before I tell them whatever it is they're supposed to hear. Stuff they usually don't like hearing, actually."

"Stuff they usually don't like hearing?" Wesley's attention was instantly riveted. "Uh, such as?"

Xander shrugged again. "Well, last summer, Willow heard me say that I'll never think of her as my girlfriend. Bit later on, Jesse heard me say Cordelia will never think of him as her boyfriend. Apparently, I even told Mr. Herrold – our gym teacher, before he got arrested for homicide – that his wife was cheating on him. And there have been others – like Mrs. Madison, Cordy, her dad, even Marcie Ross – who either got pissed off, scared or defensive, afterwards. Hell, the only one who's ever thanked me for the Oracle stuff is Buffy, with regard to that Angel guy; and even that's kinda iffy, in my book!"

"Why do you say that?" Wesley asked, fascinated by what he was now hearing.

"Oh, come on! I told you how he deliberately turned his back on me, after returning my stake! That vamp basically offered me a free shot to dust him, if I wanted to; then Angel broke up the fight between Buffy and that Spike guy after telling me he wanted to save her, before he vanished. That sound like normal vampire behavior to you?"

"Well, no," he was forced to admit.

"He also said he was the only vampire in the world who had a soul. And hey – is that even possible?" Harris scrunched up his face in apparent confusion.

"No. A vampire is a demon, despite the human corpse it inhabits. It can imitate the appearance of humanity, but it doesn't possess any form of conscience or human morality at all. Once the soul is gone, there is nothing left of the person the vampire once was – apart from the memories, of course," Wesley said firmly.

"And it can't come back under _**any**_ circumstances?" the Oracle wanted to know, before he suddenly looked like he had an epiphany. "Like, could someone stuff a soul into a vampire using magic?"

Wesley opened his mouth to say 'no', but then considered the question more carefully. Looking troubled, he eventually said, "I don't know, to be perfectly honest. But if something like that could be done, then it would require _**very**_ dark magicks to retrieve a human soul from its proper place in the afterlife, and – the worst sort of curse I can possibly imagine, even for one of the undead!"

"So, then – theoretically, he mighta been telling the truth? I mean, if that guy's not necessarily a black hat – then maybe that'd explain why I did the whole Oracle thing for him in that alley. No idea what I said, of course, but I saw him looking at me afterwards the same way everyone does," Xander shrugged.

"I see," Wesley replied slowly. "Well –"

Without any warning, the Oracle's eyes changed from brown to green, just as he'd described would happen. They also changed in iridescence, sparkling and shimmering in the morning sunlight coming in through the nearby window –

" _You will fail your Slayer in almost every way imaginable, thanks to your belief that the Council's methods are the only acceptable way of controlling her. And the Chosen One will despise you as well as ignore you, by the time the final battle against the undead comes to pass."_

Shocked speechless, Wesley simply stared at the teenage prophet standing before him in awe – and horror.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **Later that day**

{ _AUGGHHH!_ } Cordelia groaned to herself, as she walked down the corridor in the direction of her locker. { _Sometimes I gotta wonder, what did I do to ever deserve all this crap?!_ }

It wasn't just the herpes rumor that had been started by Larry, or what had happened at the Bronze on Friday night – earlier today, Harmony had been gossiping about who had done what during that particular evening. The blonde airhead had started talking about Buffy, saying the new girl must have known the gang members because she'd started fighting against one of their leaders, the one who'd killed the bouncer; so Cordelia had decided to put a stop to that by telling her followers that Xander had saved her life again that night, giving them something else to focus on.

It was true enough, in her mind – that peroxide-blond _**thing**_ which had grabbed her by the neck would have killed her, if the Dweeb hadn't done what he did at that moment. Not that she'd mentioned anything about the walking dead to anybody, 'natch. And when she'd told her parents about Harris acting like her Knight of Ghosts and Shadows, her personal protector, like she'd dressed him up as when they were little?

Daddy had merely smirked and nodded, but Mother had looked _**pissed**_.

{ _What am I gonna do about her? No, scratch that. What am I going to do about my boyfr – the Dorkhead?_ } Cordelia asked herself, mentally stumbling yet again before arriving at her locker. She opened it and dumped all her stuff inside, before slamming the locker door shut. { _Because I'd_ _ **really**_ _like to know the answer to that one. Seriously!_ }

Cordelia knew there was no point trying to deny it any longer – the Doofus had gotten all the way underneath her skin, complete fashion disaster and hopeless spaz that he was. Ever since her birthday, she'd been thinking about Xander almost all the time; had even started dreaming about him since Friday night.

And those dreams had been worthy of Skinemax, or pay per view! Oh ye gods, what was wrong with her?

{ _Oh, come on. Seriously? Does the phrase 'Mrs. Cordelia Harris' ring any bells for you?_ } that snide and irritating voice from the back of her head spoke up.

Oh, shut up. I am not!

{ _Sure – not yet, anyway. Because we've had this conversation before, girl, and way too often. Quite frankly, it's starting to get totally boring! May as well just admit it to yourself; you've started to fall in love with that geek, big time._ }

I am not! Just because lately there's been kissing, and X-rated dreams, and –

{ _And nothing. Told you before that you were_ _ **doomed**_ _, remember? It's the big L-word territory, whether you like it or not. And besides – do you really want that Buffy girl to grab hold of your boyfriend, if you don't hurry up and get your ass in gear?_ }

Xander's not my boyfriend yet, and he's not interested in her. I don't care what he said to me during my birthday, he's not –

"Hey!" she yelped, as a hand grabbed her by the wrist – and Harris started dragging her across the hall into an empty classroom. "What the hell, Caveman Brain?!"

"Shut. Up," he hissed at her furiously, his eyes blazing. "We need to talk!"

{ _Wow. Xander's really angry. Like 'someone burned down his favorite comic book store' angry. Wonder what's gotten him so mad?_ } "Talk about what?" Cordelia asked, straightening up and looking at Harris disdainfully.

"You've been telling everyone that I saved your life last Friday night!" he all but yelled at her accusingly.

"Yeah, so? It's the truth, isn't it? And geez, why are you mad about that? I thought guys loved to get their heads swelled a little, y'know, by a girl telling all her friends about his heroic accomplishments!" she shot back at him.

"Other guys, maybe. Not. Me," Xander hissed at her, causing her to stare at him in dismay. "Dammit, Cor, have you forgotten all the rules?! Or did that Spike guy give you brain damage from the lack of oxygen, or something!"

Cordelia instantly glared at him. "The hell are you implying, loser?!"

Xander glared right back at her. "Two words for ya, Cor! Low. Profile. Remember? Because I've had people staring and pointing at me all day, after they heard you run your mouth off about that! God! Just for once – couldn't you have stopped to _**think**_ before opening your lips, and saying whatever the hell stomps through your brain?!"

The response was immediate and instinctive; she said furiously, "How dare you talk to me that way, you – you _**dipshit?!**_ "

"Because you _**fucked up**_ , already!" Xander roared back at her, obviously unwilling to back down about this one. She recoiled as the Dork abruptly deflated, looking at her with a weary look in his eyes – one she didn't like at all. Then he said, "You know what? That's it, I give. No more. This, this has gotta stop."

"What do you mean?" Cordy asked, the bad feeling in the pit of her stomach getting worse.

"I mean, this. You. Me. Us. The whole hairpin loop-slash-roller coaster ride we've been on, since that day in Madam Devora's tent. It's got to stop," Harris said, rubbing the back of his neck. "So from now on, we avoid each other. Completely. You stick with your friends – such as they are – and I'll stick with mine –"

"Wait a minute! You're _**dumping**_ me?!" Cordelia interrupted in shock.

"No, uh, 'cause that would imply that we were ever officially together in the first place," the Unmitigated Asshole (as she now thought of him) explained, with a weird look on his face. "Look, Cordy – it's not that I don't have feelings for you –"

"You have feelings for me?!" she gasped out in amazement. A small nova of happiness erupted into existence within her heart, even as Cordelia stared at Xander in sheer incredulity; she'd never once thought that he might actually reciprocate her feelings for him!

"Yeah, but that's not the point. The point is that my circumstances being what they are, I can't live in the spotlight with you. And I'm pretty darn sure you can't live in the shadows with me – so what exactly are our options?" he asked her hopelessly. "Just make out in secret, every chance we get? Maybe that'd be enough for a while, but there's no future in a relationship like that! Eventually, we'd either break up, or take things out of the closet – which, again, isn't a possibility as far as I'm concerned. Besides, even if we did fool around the way we've been doing lately – you'd have to keep up appearances by going on dates with guys who are socially acceptable, right? And I don't think I could handle that – being forced to watch some jock pawing you in public, and not being able to do a damn thing to stop it, I mean."

Xander shook his head. "That's why it's better for us to simply call it quits here and now, and just get on with our lives."

Feeling totally gutted by the lamer's words – and the fact that he was absolutely right about everything, she couldn't argue against any of those points even if she'd wanted to – Cordelia nonetheless reacted with her heart instead of her head.

That was why one of her custom-manufactured Louis Vuitton shoes impacted directly upon Xander's balls. Hard.

"Auughhhh!" Harris wheezed out as he collapsed down to the floor, his crossed eyes watering madly as he tried to crawl away from her, moaning and panting loudly. Kinda like Larry had done, a few days ago.

A few seconds later he groaned, "Ow, ow, OW! Kee-rist on a friggin' sidecar – that _**hurt!**_ "

She waited silently for him to recover, to get up and then glare at her – before the Unmitigated Asshole said angrily, "You really _**are**_ a ball-busting bitch, aren't you? Can't believe I was stupid enough to think the worst you'd ever do was slap me, rather than go for Little Xander and the twins!"

"Slapping you is for when you act like the loser Dweeb I was starting to fall in love with," Cordelia choked, not noticing Xander's eyes go wide. "But you tearing my heart out, and then stomping all over it? Newsflash, but you. Hurt. Me. Asshole!"

She whirled around and ran out of the classroom, trying desperately not to cry until she made into the privacy of one of the stalls in the nearby girls' bathroom.

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Yes, I actually went there. Sorry, but it had to be done - not only because my inner Joss proclaimed, "You must give the readers what they need, not what they want..." - always annoying when that happens, I know - but I have in mind some plot developments that require a pair of sixteen-year-olds to act like _teenagers._ At that age, kids often do stupid shit that they regret afterwards, and this is one of those times. Anyway, whether you loved it or hated it, please tell me what you thought of it - and I thank you as always for doing so!


	20. Q&A

**Chapter Twenty: Q &A**

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **January 13** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

How does one deal with the horrifying pronouncement that you're destined to _**fail**_ doing the most important thing in the entire world?

Wesley still didn't know the answer to that question, as he sat in his private office and silently contemplated the warning which the Harris boy – the Oracle – had passed onto him.

{ _You will fail your Slayer in almost every way imaginable, thanks to your belief that the Council's methods are the only acceptable way of controlling her. And the Chosen One will despise you as well as ignore you, by the time the final battle against the undead comes to pass._ }

It was tempting – very much so – to simply dismiss the lad's words out of hand. Convince himself that Harris (or whatever was speaking through him) didn't know what they were talking about, and continue on as planned with regards to Miss Summers. His intellect, however, did not allow him to entertain that comforting notion.

Given the Oracle's prior record, Wesley knew that the boy had spoken nothing but the naked truth, and that thought chilled him to the very marrow of his bones.

What could he do? What _**could**_ he do? That question rolled around in his brain as he struggled to regain focus, tried to deal with the shocking, the almost-unbelievable thing that had just happened to him.

{ _Mum tried to warn me, didn't she?_ } Wesley abruptly thought to himself, as he recalled that particular phone call during Christmas Eve. { _She told me to keep in mind that Miss Summers wasn't raised by the Council, and that I'd have to make allowances for her colonial upbringing. But how the bloody hell am I supposed to do that? How am I supposed to be a proper Watcher to the Slayer, if that means letting_ _ **her**_ _dictate to_ _ **me**_ _? That goes against everything I've been taught, not to mention everything I believe in!_ }

{ _And yet, if I don't do that, the consequences will apparently be catastrophic – what with the upcoming opportunity to finally cleanse this world of the plague of the undead..._ }

Wesley finally came to the conclusion that this was one problem that he simply couldn't handle by himself, and that he needed help to deal with it. He reached out for the telephone, but quickly stopped as he considered what might be the consequences if he asked his mother how to manage his Slayer in a... non-traditional way.

{ _Father will learn about it, and he'll be absolutely furious,_ } Wesley sighed to himself, shaking his head. { _He'll call and tell me – no, no, more likely he'll send a strongly worded letter never to bring shame to the family name like that again, daring to question the Council's methods when it comes to the Chosen One. Something to remind me of his anger far more enduringly than just some ephemeral international phone call._ }

So, who to call upon for advice and assistance? He had many acquaintances but few friends within the Council, and not only were none of them close enough to truly confide in, they would all feel obligated to report to their superiors something of _**this**_ magnitude. He'd be fired from the job in disgrace soon enough, once the whispers and rumors started spreading throughout the organization.

{ _No._ } Wesley abruptly realized he needed to talk to an outsider. A former Watcher, whose Slayer had been killed in the line of duty. There had to be someone with whom he could discuss the questions which the Oracle's words had raised, and whom he could trust not to report what he or she had learned back to the Council.

Quickly going through the Watcher Diaries of his predecessors, Wesley discovered something interesting. Nikki Wood, who'd been stationed in New York, had been the Chosen One from 1973 until 1977. Four years of service was quite a long time, given the average Slayer only lasted a year or less – her Watcher, one Bernard Crowley, had obviously done something right back then –

{ _And he moved to Beverly Hills afterwards, that's barely two hours away by car. This is_ _ **perfect**_ _!_ } Wes thought excitedly, as he picked up the phone and dialled the 310 area code and then the rest of the telephone number. { _Hopefully, the man will have some clue on how to help me deal with my problem –_ }

"Hello?" a male voice said from the other end of the line, after the ring tone came to an end.

"Ah, yes, hello. This is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce here," the Englishman said, his accent thickening somewhat.

"Right – Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, I'm Robin Wood. How can I help you?"

"I'd like to speak with Bernard Crowley, please."

There was a brief pause before the other man's voice said somewhat roughly, "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid that's impossible. My father passed away over two years ago."

"Oh, I see. I'm sorry, I-I didn't know. Well, um, my condolences for your loss, sir," Wesley briefly stammered an apology.

"Thank you; and I'm sorry if I was a bit curt just now. It's been – a difficult time for me," Wood's voice admitted painfully. "Ever since my mother died, you see, it was always just me and my dad – after he adopted me, the man taught me all I know about... everything."

"Everything?"

"Everything. Including the – night life – which killed my mother."

"Good God, man – are, are you telling me you're Nikki Wood's son?!" Wesley abruptly figured out the truth, feeling utterly shocked.

"Yes. And you _**are**_ with the Council, I thought as much," Mr. Wood's voice now contained a tone of obvious satisfaction. "Okay, let's dispense with the banter then, shall we? Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, what did you want to speak to my mother's Watcher about?"

"I, I, I wanted to ask his advice on how to handle my Slayer," Wesley confessed, hoping he was doing the right thing here. "I mean, Nikki Wood was one of the longest-lived Slayers for this century –"

"That she was," Mr. Wood interrupted, his voice crackling over the telephone for a moment. "And you were hoping to find out the secret of her success?"

"Well, in a manner of speaking, I suppose –"

"I'm kind of surprised, I have to admit," the other man's voice interrupted him yet again. "Nobody else from the Council ever phoned up my dad, asking to talk shop like this. It's like the Watchers didn't want to admit my mom really was that good at the Slayage! The fact that she was black probably didn't help, what with all the racism and prejudice back then. Not that things are really all that much better nowadays, especially after what happened with Rodney King a few years ago, but still."

Wes did his best to ignore the less-than-subtle cutting remarks, trying to keep his mind on business. "How old were you when your mother was killed, if I may ask?"

"Four. But I still remember –" The man paused for a few moments, the silence almost deafening to Wesley's ear. "I still remember her. My mother's face, her voice. And what she always used to tell me, once I was old enough to understand – 'the mission is what matters.' That's what my dad taught me as well, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce; that you do whatever you have to in order to make sure the sun still rises the next day, no matter what. In fact – that's the reason why my father threw the Slayer Handbook away almost immediately, when it came to dealing with my mom."

"He did _**what?!**_ " Wes yelped, unable to believe his ears.

"Well, he pretty much had to. Did you know she was pregnant with me, when the Council forced my dad to inflict the Cruciamentum on her? She'd have killed him and all the other Watchers for putting me in danger back then, if my adopted father hadn't abandoned the test and helped her slay that undead former witch doctor! And I'm guessing you also didn't know my mom had a network of informants and friends throughout the Big Apple, which served as an early warning system in order for her to prevent at least three apocalypses? Even the guys who were NYPD, they understood about the occasional building needing to get torched – which was full of demons attempting to open a portal to Hell, or the undead trying to raise one of the Old Ones, or whatever."

Again, the Slayer's son paused. "And that's the secret which I suspect the Council has done its best to try to bury, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. A Slayer fighting on her own, thinking herself nothing but the Council's weapon, she has a pretty limited shelf-life. Because she has nothing to live _**for**_. But what my mother proved is this; it's not only possible to survive but also to thrive, to _**live**_ , as a Slayer – if you have real ties to this world. Friends, family, and everything else the Watchers officially disapprove of. And if he was still with us today, I'm pretty sure that's what my father would have told you in order to cope with your own girl. Namely, that the Council's rules don't work with the Chosen Ones who can actually think for themselves."

"I see," Wesley said slowly, mentally digesting what he'd just heard. He was now more shocked and confused than ever, but he still managed to say, "Well, thank you for your time, Mr. Wood, and for your advice. Rest assured, I shall consider it most carefully."

"You're welcome, Mr. Wyndam-Pryce. Goodbye, and good luck with your Slayer."

"Thank you, sir. And farewell to you, too."

There was a soft _**click!**_ as the line went dead, and Wesley just stared briefly at the telephone receiver before carefully placing it back on its cradle.

* * *

 **The Bronze, Sunnydale**

 **The next evening**

Angel kept careful watch on the Oracle, and as soon as the boy was alone, he decided to make his move.

{ _He's angry,_ } he thought to himself, as he approached his target slowly. Bringing to bear all the knowledge regarding human nature which he had gleaned over the past three centuries, Angel assessed the situation and thought to himself, { _I'm not sure why, but the boy's mad as hell about something. Could be a girl – that would account for the frustration I'm seeing, as well as the anger. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, actually – kids are always kids, no matter how much the background scenery changes. Now, how to handle this?_ }

Angel waited until Xander (ridiculous name, that, but never mind) sat down at a table near the back of the club, and then he smoothly walked over to the mortal. "This seat taken?"

The boy's eyes went wide, and for a moment Angel was afraid that he was going to get up and run for it – but then the Oracle shook his head and said simply, "No."

"Mind if I sit down, then?"

"It's not like I could stop you if you decided to sit down anyway, is it?"

{ _Smartass punk,_ } Angel thought to himself in slight annoyance, but without letting his feelings show on his face. He sat down and saw the Oracle lean away slightly, catching that distinctive whiff of fear again with his undead nose. "You're afraid of me? Wise of you. You shouldn't get comfortable around a vampire, not even one with a soul like me."

"Yeah, uh, I mentioned that to the others. Buffy didn't believe a word of it," the kid replied, which caused a pang to go through his unbeating heart. "But me, I can't help wondering. If it's true – did someone give you your soul back with some kinda black magic? Curse-type deal?"

Angel immediately lost control of his lower jaw, as it collapsed almost to ground level. He spluttered out, "How, how did you know-?"

"I didn't, I just sorta guessed. Well, okay, Buffy's Watcher – otherwise known as Mister British Flag Up His Butt – he was the one who came up with the idea regarding a curse of some kind. I just figured that if you weren't being undead Liar Guy, then magic was the most likely explanation," Harris shrugged.

"Gypsy magic," Angel muttered, recalling that summer night during 1898 far more clearly than he would have liked to. "Romany. The Kalderash tribe."

"Meaning?" the Oracle now looked confused.

"I fed on a girl about your age, nearly a hundred years ago. Her people weren't the type that law enforcement – such as it was back then – cared about. So her family took matters into their own hands and conjured up the perfect punishment for me; being cursed with a human soul, having to care about all the murders and other atrocities I'd committed. I nearly went mad with the guilt," he confessed.

"Kinda like that Drusilla chick, huh? Total loony-tunes. What's up with that, by the way? What's her deal, calling me her 'kitten' or whatever?" the Oracle asked, scrunching his nose a little.

"I drove her mad, or rather my demon did," Angel confessed again. "In life, Dru was pure and chaste, and she planned to become a nun – everything Angelus hated in a woman – but she also had the Sight, which was an irresistible lure for him. That's why I – why _**he**_ stalked her, killed her entire family, and on the day Drusilla was scheduled to take her holy orders at that convent? Angelus slaughtered everyone there, and turned her into a soulless demon. His own prescient secret weapon."

The boy shook his head in disgust. "I get now why they used to call ya the Scourge of Europe! But what about my other question?"

"No one except Dru herself can know why she ever does anything. And sometimes, not even her," Angel admitted, feeling slightly embarrassed over not being able to answer the question properly. "Occasionally, she acts like she doesn't know what she's doing. But don't ever make the mistake of thinking she's not dangerous. If Dru's got you in her sights, you're in trouble."

"Yeah, figured as much. But it's not just me she's set her sights on," the boy replied, before nodding towards another part of the Bronze. Angel turned slightly to see a brunette – stereotypical cheerleader type – holding court in the club, her friends eagerly hanging on her every word, before turning back to the Oracle.

Harris glowered angrily at her, before he calmed down and added, "I heard that Spike guy refer to Cordy as someone who's gonna become 'red in tooth and claw', according to his girlfriend. You were there at the time, remember? Don't suppose you'd know anything about that?"

"No," Angel shook his head. "So I'd advise you to stick close to her, watch out for the girl as best you can."

"Yeah, well, might be a problem there. Cordelia package-checked me pretty good yesterday, and we're not exactly on speaking terms any longer," the Oracle replied, the anger and frustration again briefly visible on his face again.

"Far as I'm concerned, it's totally up to you; my mission is to help Buffy. Keep her safe. Protect her," Angel shrugged, ignoring the mortal's emotional display as best he could.

Harris raised his eyebrows in apparent disbelief. "And who the hell is gonna protect _**you**_ from _**her?**_ I'm telling ya, pal, she'd like nothing better than to make you fit into an ashtray! Kinda my fault, sure, but still."

"Your fault? Why?" Angel asked in confusion.

"I did the Oracle thing for her last week, warned her about you – apparently," Xander shrugged. "Not that I remember what I actually said, I never do; but Slay-gal told me later that I gave her enough clues for her to figure out who and what you were, when you guys first met."

{ _Terrific._ } Angel tried to quell the sudden anger inside him, knowing that it was pointless now. { _What's done is done, and can't be undone. Move on!_ } "I see. And I guess that means you don't remember you said to me in that alley, either?"

"Nope. So what did I tell ya, just outta curiosity?"

He hesitated for a moment, but then admitted, "Something about how my mission here will save lives, but I'll screw up by making some sort of alliance with the enemy. And that I should become human as soon as possible, before it's too late."

"Huh. Don't get the first bit, I'll admit that, but the second? Yeah, that makes perfect sense to me. Good advice, you should definitely follow it," the boy nodded.

"Why? And how?" Angel asked, hope coloring his voice as he asked those questions.

"The how? Totally clueless am I, dude. And as for the why, I could tell you – but it's safer for me _**and**_ Buffy if I don't. What you don't know, you can't tell anyone else; either voluntarily or otherwise," his companion said firmly.

Angel didn't understand why him becoming human would help keep Buffy safe – but he knew that the Oracle's words should almost certainly be listened to. As for the rest, the lack of trust stung a little – but that was perfectly understandable. Gods above and below, it was a miracle how this boy actually trusted him enough for them to converse this way, without gibbering in sheer panic!

Angel suddenly remembered how, according to rumor, both Darla and the Master were now gone –

"Have you heard about the Master? How the ritual of the Harvest failed, and he died? His minions found nothing but the shattered remains of a skeleton afterwards, according to the gossip I overheard," Angel said abruptly, staring at the Oracle. "Did you prophesize anything related to that?"

"Nope. Or at least, not as far as I know," Xander frowned.

"Well, I guess it doesn't really matter now. My point is, Buffy's in danger; from Spike and Drusilla," Angel said grimly. "With both my sire and grandsire gone, they'll almost certainly assume control of the vampire leadership and target her. So you need to warn everyone about their plans."

"Uh-huh. And when everyone asks just _**how**_ I learned this, what am I gonna say? That the friendly neighborhood vampire-man clued me in on it? You really think Buffy will believe me, once she hears that little bit of info?" the Oracle demanded. He shook his head, "No. You want my advice, go talk to her Watcher and tell him everything you just told me. Pretty sure you can find out where the high school library is, can't you?"

"There's no point, someone like that won't listen to me. Soul or otherwise, I'm still a vampire, like you just said. And all Watchers are trained to think that vampires can't be trusted, not under any circumstances. Two hundred-plus years of experience talking here. I need to work through you; sorry, but that's just the way it is," Angel shrugged slightly.

"Terrific," the boy groaned. "What else could go wrong?"

"Hi there, I'm Cordelia Chase!" He turned his head to see the brunette smiling with near-blinding intensity at him; and Angel couldn't help but notice she was completely ignoring the Oracle. She added, "So, what's a hunk of salty goodness like you doing here, talking to a total loser like him?"

"I had to ask," Harris said painfully, before he let his head drop down onto the surface of the table with a loud _**THUNK!**_

* * *

 **Spike and Drusilla's new warehouse lair, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

Spike was happy. Happier than he'd ever been in his entire life, human or vampire.

Because at long last, the Master was dead. Dead, dead, dead! And not just a little dead, or sorta dead, or even vampire dead – no, he was dead in the 'dead and gone' sort of way! The memory of setting him on fire and then smashing the old fart's bones with his bare fists was enough to give Spike a moment of pure, perfect, happiness.

Really ranked right up there with killing them two Slayers way back when, he had to admit.

Oh, sure, some of the minions hadn't been happy when they'd learned good ol' Heinrich had finally kicked the bucket, along with Darla. Most of them had slunk out of the cave after hearing the news, and disappeared. He'd let them go; Spike had known that none of them were any sort of threat to him and his sire. If they were smart, they'd return once they realized they were easy pickings for the Slayer around here –

{ _And that reminds me; need ta tell Angelus that his plan of usin' that bint to assassinate the Master isn't necessary, not anymore,_ } Spike thought to himself absently, looking around at his new headquarters. { _Head on over to his apartment at some point, 'n tell Gramps the good news. Well, assumin' he hasn't heard it already! But that can wait – need ta establish my power base securely around 'ere first, after all._ _ **Then**_ _we can kill that pain-in-the-arse Slayer!_ }

"Spoike? Oh, Spoike, where are you?" Drusilla's plaintive, echoing voice throughout the semi-empty factory, as the British vampire turned around and headed straight for his sire. "Where 'ave you gone, my darling?"

"I'm right 'ere, luv, what's wrong?"

"Oh... I'm naming all the stars, but I'm giving them all the same name, which is making them very cross and confused," Dru replied, looking upwards.

Spike was in such a good mood that the nonsense babble didn't even remotely faze him. "Well, good for you, pet! Now, I'm thinking we should celebrate –"

"Silly Willy! This is no time for celebration! The Kitten still Speaks, and the Slayer still lives," Drusilla interrupted him, an angry scowl appearing on her face. "And the naughty girl... the naughty girl..."

"What about her, luv?" Spike asked, recalling the two blood bags in question. "Her and that green-eyed boyfriend o' hers?"

It was an important question, Spike knew; as he definitely hadn't been expecting Droopy Boy to do what he did during the night of the Harvest. Talking about things that he had no business knowing about! Still, maybe he should have expected it, or something like it. Now that he thought about it, the clues were all there.

Dru had obviously known there was something special about the whelp, all along – she had saved the little git's life from Machida's worshippers, after all – but what exactly did that mean? Had she done that in order for the arsewipe to eventually warn him that there was a threat to her own existence? Probably – although you could never be completely sure 'bout things like that. Not until after the fact, and sometimes, not even then –

"Oh, oh, oh! Come with me, Spoike! Quickly now! Jack be nimble, Jack be swift, and Jack jump over the candlestick!" Dru shouted, as she grabbed him by the hand and dragged him out of their new lair.

Spike felt baffled more than anything else, as he and his beloved headed north for the Sunnydale Zoo. He didn't question her actions, but he hoped that answers would soon be forthcoming. It was too perfect a night to waste on a completely pointless lark, after all.

"Look, Spoike! See!" Drusilla whispered, when they eventually arrived at their destination; a normal-looking building, outside what looked like an ordinary office with a window. She dragged him closer and pressed his face against the glass. "Look in 'n see!"

Spike frowned. He could see the Happy Meal inside the office – a zookeeper of some kind, judging by the uniform – painting some sort of symbols on the floor. Nothing he could recognize, either. { _Hrrm. Well, now, reckon that's kinda interesting. Still, wot's going on? Why'd Dru drag me all the way over 'ere ta see this?_ }

"Not that I don't appreciate good artwork as much as the next vampire, luv – but why are we watching that ponce doin' what's he doing?" Spike asked, lighting up a cigarette and staring curiously at his sire.

"I can't see. It's too bright where they are," Drusilla replied cryptically, her head swaying a little. "Much too bright, it is. The Dark Lady. The naughty girl. And the Kitten! He Speaks, and everyone listens! No, no, that's not right at all!"

"Too bad he can't come down with a serious case o' laryngitis, then!" Spike scoffed, taking another drag of his cancer-stick.

Drusilla went absolutely still. For five long seconds, she didn't move at all. Then she turned around and ran away, and silently cursing, Spike chased after her.

Much to his surprise, though, as soon as they were far enough away from the office building, Dru stopped, turned around again and kissed him. Hard. "Oh, my wonderful, clever Spoike! That's utterly brilliant, that is!"

"What's utterly brill, Dru?" Spike asked, feeling somewhat confused – and more than slightly aroused by the unexpected snog session.

"We'll 'ave to kill the nasty old wizard who rules the roost with an iron fist, first of all; he wouldn't tolerate that sort o' shenanigans!" Drusilla exclaimed, turning her head to stare in the general direction of City Hall – or so Spike thought. Then she turned to look at him in excitement, "But after that, we'll 'ave a party! And I know just who to invite as the special guests of honor!"

"Who's that, then?" Spike asked in amusement, twirling his beloved around as they started to dance on the nearby grass.

"The Gentlemen, Spoike! Them and their Footmen, o' course!"

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Wow. Double wow. This fic is now officially at the top for the total number of reviews, beating the previous record holder "31 Days of Xanderween Part Deux"; something I never would have expected, this time last year! So I thank ye all kindly for the feedback, and humbly hope that you keep it coming. The characters will soon be living in interesting times, after all, the further we progress into this _weird and twisted_ version of season one...


	21. Preying Of A Different Kind

**Chapter Twenty-one: Preying Of A Different Kind**

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **February 4** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Xander couldn't help thinking that the past month had been a rather interesting one, all things considered.

First off, he had gotten his revenge on Cordelia for kicking him in the nuts – hey, _**not**_ a doormat, and he refused to let her just dump all over him – but the whole thing had later left a bitter taste in his mouth. There was no real sense of accomplishment, anyway; like the old saying went, when it comes to women... even when you win, you still lose.

Plus Coach Benson had called for new cheerleader tryouts, not long after the Harvest. Xander didn't know why, but it had nonetheless been quite the spiritual experience watching Buffy try out for the team. Despite all the pleading Mr. Wyndam-Pryce – or Wes, as the Buffster called him – had done, trying to talk her out of it.

(Kinda weird how the guy had stopped barking orders at her, actually. He didn't know why, but if the Watcher-man wanted to act like a human being, he didn't have any problem with that.)

It had also been quite the experience watching Cordelia try out as well, looking annoyed as only Queen C could – irritated that someone had even _**dared**_ to question her worthiness to be part of the squad. Maybe unsurprisingly, it had quickly become impossible for him to remain mad at a girl capable of being that stretchy, and with a rack that amazing –

Seriously, _**fleets**_ had been launched by tits less awesome than hers!

And too bad for Buffy that she hadn't succeeded competing against the likes of Cordy and Harmony and the other Cordettes, only managing to become alternate cheerleader: a substitute if any of the other girls got sick or something. But it didn't really matter; he had learned that Slay-gal had eventually decided to quit after her 'night job' got in the way of after-school training, the dream of reliving her glory days at Hemery quickly turning sour.

(The fact that the Chosen One simply didn't look as hot as Cordelia in that yellow and maroon cheerleading outfit was, of course, completely irrelevant. At least to his way of thinking.)

Not long after, Driver's Ed. class had become the latest hot topic, as the Cordettes all competed to see who would be the first to be able to legally drive their own set of wheels. Curiously, Aura had won that race; more importantly, though, Cordelia _**finally**_ managed to get her driver's license.

And Xander knew how, given the way Queen C drove, this meant he was going to have to get out of her way immediately if – when – he encountered that girl behind the wheel of her BMW, on the streets of Sunnydale.

Speaking of cars, he and his dad had finally finished working on that '69 Shelby. She was one sweet ride nowadays, that was for sure – and Xander had been touched that his dad had offered to let him drive it to school once he got his own license. He had briefly been tempted – the GT500 model car was definitely a chick magnet, and hey, he was still a red-blooded American teenager no matter what Madam Devora had done to him – but eventually, he had decided against it.

Not only because he didn't want that sort of attention from anybody, especially the school's popular crowd, but the school bullies would slash the tires and key the sides of the car the first chance they got. Kyle and Rhonda would, for sure; maybe Tor and Heidi as well, even if that possibility was growing increasingly doubtful to his mind.

Anyway, there had been some other stuff as well – Buffy's surprise birthday party, the Mayor of Sunnydale getting killed during some sort of 'gang violence' at City Hall – but other than that, apart from school he had mostly just hung out at the Bronze with Buffy, Willow and Jesse. And Angel, on occasion.

Xander frowned, thinking of his undead acquaintance. He suspected that the ensouled vampire sought him out not only to remain updated about Buffy – Angel really was jonesin' for her, even if the two-plus centuries age difference squicked him out completely – but he also assumed those meetings at the Bronze were to get him to relax his guard enough to confess why it would be a good idea for that vamp to become human.

Still, he had no intention of doing that. If anyone who was part of the undead scene – even an ostracized outcast like Angel – learned that there was a chance their species would be utterly annihilated in three to four months? Xander knew he would be hunted down with extreme prejudice, once the news leaked out. Him and Buffy both.

It was bad enough he lived with the constant fear that that nutcase Drusilla would somehow learn the truth, and then come gunning for him – along with her boyfriend, and all their minions!

"Hey, Xander," Jesse greeted him in the main quad. "What's up?"

"Nothing much," Xander shrugged, as both of them came to a halt. "You?"

"Yeah, same," his best friend shrugged back. "So. You and Cordy still aren't on speaking terms?"

Xander stiffened, not expecting a question like that. "Nope. So, uh, what brought this on?"

Jesse sighed. "Gotta confess, bro; Willow called me last night, apparently she finally lost all patience with you and decided to talk to Cordelia in private about your breakup –"

"Hey, we didn't break up! I mean – Cordy and I were never together. Well, not officially," he interrupted angrily, before forcing himself to calm down. "Anyway, what did Will say?"

"Not a lot; just that Queen C told her that you acted like a total douche, and that she kicked you in your special place – I'm quoting Willow directly here, bud – after you dumped her," Jesse confessed, shaking his head. "Sounded painful."

"It was. And I _**didn't**_ dump Cordelia," Xander insisted, pushing away the memory of that girl kicking him where it really hurt. And how he had made her regret it, afterwards. "I just told her we should avoid each other completely from now on, and live our own lives –"

"Which explains why she's been dating that collection of jocks over the past month or so, including Blayne Mall," Jesse interrupted. "So, is Cordy's attempt to make ya jealous working?"

"Can we please change the subject, pal? Like, have you started crushing on Slay-gal? Or are ya trying to make Cordelia think she's got competition, nowadays?"

"Huh?!" Jesse stared at him, a befuddled look appearing on his face. "What? I mean, what the hell? What are ya talkin' about, Xan?"

"Okay, my mistake. Sorry," Xander apologized for his incorrect assumption. Then he saw Buffy and Willow approaching from another part of the school quad. "Women incoming, two o'clock. We better talk 'bout something else."

"Like what?" Jesse asked, still looking kinda freaked.

Xander shrugged, "Well, 'how about them Broncos' always works for me..."

"What are you guys talking about?" Willow asked, flipping her hair over her left shoulder – she had definitely let it grow a bit over the past few weeks – as she regarded him and Jesse curiously.

"Oh, wow," Jesse suddenly breathed, as he stared wide-eyed behind Buffy and Willow. "Uh... huh, uh..."

The girls turned to stare at the beautiful dark-haired woman approaching them, but Xander quickly averted his gaze. The response was instinctive nowadays; and even though he couldn't help but be aware of that incredible body – and Hecate's tits, what a body it was! – he wasn't instantly reduced to a semi-drooling mess like his best friend.

Briefly, he couldn't help wondering why that was...

The brunette came up to them and said simply, "Can you help me?"

"Uuuuuuhhhhhh... yes!" Jesse finally managed to say, and Xander couldn't help noticing Willow and Buffy exchanging amused looks. Jesse then added, "Yes, yes, I definitely can! Uh – what can I do to help you?"

"I'm looking for the Science building. Room 109?" the newcomer asked, before looking around at Buffy and Willow and himself hopefully. Xander stayed silent, even though he knew the older woman was expecting a response of some sort; so he just kept his gaze away from her, hoping that she wouldn't address him personally. People expected you to make eye contact when that happened, after all.

"I, uh... I go there just about every day, it's, um, uh..." Jesse gestured vaguely in the direction of the football field. "Over there, uh, somewhere?"

{ _Smooth, bro, very smooth!_ } Xander sighed to himself, before Blayne Mall showed up and offered to escort the new arrival – whose name was Natalie French – to where she needed to go. { _And to think – last year, that woulda been me!_ }

As Miss French and Blayne left, Buffy and Willow started to tease Jesse about his new crush, but Xander didn't pay any attention. The others moved off towards the main school building, and he trailed after them slowly, still thinking about Miss French.

{ _What's someone that babe-licious doing here at Sunnydale High?_ } Xander suddenly asked himself, a paranoid frown appearing on his face. { _And why do I get the feeling something's definitely not right about this?_ }

* * *

 **Science class, Sunnydale High**

 **A while later**

Cordelia was not in a good mood. Hadn't been for nearly a month, now.

Ever since the day the Unmitigated Asshole had hurt her in a way that she'd never even imagined was possible, it had just been one bad day after another. And even though she had tried her best to put all that behind her – to move on, as Harris had put it – at times, the anger surfaced all over again. And when that happened, all her friends knew they had to either get to minimum safe distance or end up verbally eviscerated by the leader of the elite.

It had given her something of an unwanted reputation, Cordelia knew that. The bitchy queen of mean, plus the girl who never let any guy go beyond first base any longer. But she simply couldn't help it. The feeling of a boy's lips on hers – well, any boy who wasn't _**him**_ – did absolutely nothing for her anymore. And that pissed her off more than she could describe!

{ _It's not supposed to be like this,_ } Cordelia thought to herself bitterly, as she noticed the Library Loser Legion walk into the classroom. { _Dammit, what's wrong with me? The Asshole made it clear that it's over between us! So why can't I get over him, already?_ }

Putting such thoughts out of her head, she listened as the dark-haired woman with the _**obvious**_ surgical improvements said, "Hello, everyone. My name is Natalie French, and I'll be substituting for Dr. Gregory today."

"Do you know when he's coming back?" Buffy asked, after raising her hand.

"No, I don't, um..." Miss French checked her roster, "...Buffy. They just call and tell me when they need someone, and where they want me to go."

"I'll tell you where I want you to go," Blayne muttered, causing Cordelia to glare at him and slap him on the back of his head. She thought to herself angrily, { _That's it, buster, you can forget about any more dates with_ _ **me**_ _!_ }

"Excuse me, Blayne?" the teacher asked, looking over at him.

"Uh, I was just wondering if you were gonna pick up where Dr. Gregory left off?" the jock asked, rubbing the back of his head.

Miss French smiled, "Yes, I am. Now, according to his notes, you were right in the middle of insect life..." She picked up a mantis mounted in a clear plastic box and said, "The preying mantis is a fascinating creature. Forced to live alone. Who can tell me why? Buffy?" The teacher put the mantis back down, and looked at the Slayer.

"Well, the words 'bug-ugly' kinda spring to mind," Buffy replied, which caused muffled laughter to erupt throughout the room.

"There is nothing ugly about these unique creatures. The reason they live alone is because they're cannibals!" Miss French replied passionately.

"Eww!" Cordy muttered. Just about everyone in class made similar noises, and she couldn't blame them for it one bit!

"No, no, it's not their fault! That's just the way nature designed them: noble, solitary and prolific. Over 1800 species worldwide, and in nearly all of them, the female is larger _**and**_ more aggressive than the male," Miss French insisted, walking back towards her desk.

"Nothing wrong with an aggressive female in my book," Blayne whispered, and Cordelia rolled her eyes in disgust. That line just totally made her skin crawl!

Miss French picked up her notebook and started to walk around the room. "The California Mantis lays her eggs, and then finds a mate." Cordelia suddenly realized Miss French was looking at Xander, even though he avoided her gaze, before the substitute teacher kept walking and added, "The male's role is to fertilize them. Once he's played his part she cannibalises him, covers the eggs in a protective sack and attaches it to a leaf or twig. Some place out of danger. And if she's done her job correctly, in a few months she'll have several hundred offspring."

By this point, the teacher had made her way back to the front of the class and put down her notebook. "You know, we should make some model egg sacks for the Science Fair. Who'd like to help me do that after school?"

To Cordelia's total lack of surprise, all the boys immediately raised their hands. No, wait – the Unmitigated Asshole wasn't eagerly volunteering like all his hormone-crazed male classmates! Reluctantly, Cordelia couldn't help feeling somewhat impressed. Even Stalker Boy couldn't help being part of Miss French's adoring fan club – huh, either Harris must have developed some serious willpower after breaking up with her, or else –

"Good!" Miss French interrupted her thoughts in a pleased tone of voice. "Now, can someone please tell me, where exactly was Dr. Gregory up to in your textbook?"

Willow raised her hand and said, "He told us to study chapters six through eight yesterday, Miss French."

"Alright..." For the next forty-five minutes or so, the substitute teacher continued to speak, and Cordelia was amazed despite herself. All the boys were eagerly listening to her every word, and even most of the girls paid attention, as Miss French definitely knew her stuff where insect biology was concerned. But then the bell rang, and the class ended.

"Mr. Harris – Xander – please stay behind a moment, I'd like to talk to you in private," Miss French asked, after dismissing the rest of the class.

Cordelia couldn't help noticing that Unmitigated Asshole looked trapped, and for a moment she felt sympathy for him. Then that feeling vanished, and the vindictive anger took its place as she walked out the door. { _Serves him right, whatever the new teacher does to him –_ }

"Hey!" she yelped, as a soft hand grabbed her left shoulder and turned her around. Cordelia then glared at Buffy and said, "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Talking to you without your friends present," Buffy said firmly. The Slayer paused, looking around and making sure they were alone before adding, "Tell me something, Cordelia. How long are you gonna keep punishing Xander for trying to do the right thing by you, last month?"

"None of your business! And what the _**hell**_ would you know about that?" she instinctively snarled.

"I know that if you're out to make Xander miserable, you're succeeding. But see, here's the thing – I need him –"

"I knew it! I _**knew**_ you had a thing for him! Of all the lousy, no-good, boyfriend-stealing –"

"I need him to help me get rid of all the vampires a few months from now," Buffy kept going, causing her to grind to an abrupt, embarrassed halt. "Bottom line? Cordelia, I need the guy to get his head in the game. That means I need you to lay off trying to torment Xander the way you've been doing these past few weeks, okay? After May, far as I'm concerned – you can do whatever the heck you want. Make him yours, drive him crazy with jealousy, whatever. But until all the vamps are gone –"

Buffy abruptly cut herself off, looking to be in pain as she lifted her hand to her left ear, before sticking a finger into her earhole and rubbing gently. She then headed back to the classroom door, and opened it up –

Straightaway, Cordelia could hear a dissonant, inhuman, squealing noise. Oh, geez, it was coming out of the Dorkhead's mouth – his eyes were green and sparkly, and he was staring at Miss French, doing the whole Oracle thing! She was immediately reminded of that night in the Delta Zeta Kappa basement, when Xander had done something similar for that snake demon, Mikado or whatever its name had been –

No, wait, something didn't add up here. Why would he-? Miss French was as human as the rest of them, wasn't she?

"OH MY GODDDDDDD!" Cordelia screamed, as the new teacher rotated her head a full one hundred and eighty degrees – something straight out of _The Exorcist_ – and stared at her and Buffy. Then the teacher's human form vanished, and standing right in front of her was a, a –

A huge, monstrous, insect-like _**thing**_. A giant preying mantis, like they'd just been discussing in class!

"Wrong time, wrong place, and wrong conversation to interrupt. Now I'll have to kill you both," Miss French said threateningly, her human voice now at odds with her horrific appearance.

{ _**Why**_ _do these things keep happening to me?!_ } Cordelia wailed, instinctively running to grab Xander as Buffy rushed in to attack Miss French, barely managing to haul Idiot Boy out of the way just as the fight started.

"What the hell is going on? What –" the Big Dummy started to say, looking freaked as Buffy battled against Preying Mantis Lady, quickly delivering a swinging kick to try to sweep the monster's legs out from under her. Unfortunately, it didn't work as the mantis-demon moved out of the way with inhuman speed.

"C'mon! We gotta get outta here!" Cordelia told him, trying to pull Xander along with her.

"No, you run, I gotta help Buffy!" The completely fucking retarded _**moron**_ pushed her towards the door, before starting to look for something. A weapon of some kind, probably, but what –

Xander picked up the model of the preying mantis mounted in that clear plastic box, and waited for an opportunity to strike. Cordelia was unable to move – she saw the demon swing with her claw, but miss the agile Slayer. Then Buffy slammed her fist into her enemy's midsection, but that had no effect as the she-mantis swung again, her claws again barely missing Buffy's head. Moving quickly, the Slayer punched the insect demon once more, before doing a roundhouse kick to the stomach and backhand punching Miss French again, forcing her backwards.

 _ **WHACK!**_

Cordelia winced as Xander hit the preying mantis over the head with the plastic box, and then she screamed again as Harris was swept aside with a swipe from one of those evil-looking claws. Then she noticed Buffy –

 _ **CRUNCH!**_

"Ewww!" Cordy exclaimed in disgust, as the Slayer hit the fake teacher with the biology lab's silver fire extinguisher, almost caving in one side of the preying mantis's head completely. The demon was obviously in pain, collapsing down onto its knees when Buffy followed up with another blow to the head – and this time, the she-mantis went down and stayed down, blood starting to leak out of its ears.

"Come on! We gotta get Xander outta here before anyone comes in, and finds us like this," Cordelia heard Buffy hiss at her. "Help me get him up, already!"

Feeling dazed and in shock, Cordelia numbly obeyed the Chosen One's orders. "What about – her?" she asked, pointing at the insectile body on the floor.

Buffy had her hands full with the unconscious Dweeb, but she nonetheless gritted out, "I'll get a machete or whatever from the library, make with the slice and dice; and Wes can help me get rid of the remains. But right now, you gotta get your ex over to the school nurse's office!"

{ _Oh, God, she's right. What if Xander's seriously hurt?_ } Cordelia thought to herself in sudden horror.

The irony didn't escape her that barely an hour ago, this would have been like a happily vengeful fantasy come true; but here and now, all she could do was hope and pray that the Dimwit she'd lost her heart to would somehow be okay.

* * *

 **Sunnydale Zoo, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

 _{ The hyenas are on their way. Finally!_ } Dr. Weirick thought to himself happily, tightly clutching the approval form from the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service and the government agency's shipping manifest. { _Another sixteen to nineteen days, and they'll be here in Sunnydale! Now, if only I could figure out that darn trans-possession ritual –_ }

* * *

 **Nurse's office, Sunnydale High**

 **Later that day**

Principal Bob Flutie was greatly concerned.

First off, there was a worrisome bullying problem in his school. And the worst perpetrators of that sort of thing were Tor Hauer, Kyle DuFours, Heidi Barrie and Rhonda Kelly. Four kids who, quite frankly, he was starting get completely sick of. Secondly, there was a major issue with regards to staff turnover; the latest teacher to go missing, Dr. Gregory, only served to underscore how hard it was keeping experienced, skilled and talented people around here.

Of course, he had other problems as well –

"Just what kind of school are you running, Mr. Flutie?" Mrs. Harris demanded, she and her husband had shown up here not long after their son had been carried to the nurse's office with some kind of head injury. "I mean, it wasn't that long ago Xander was hit in the face with some kind of ball during gym class, that bully almost broke his nose – and now, someone's knocked him unconscious?!"

"Please, Mrs. Harris, if you'll just calm down –" he tried to placate her, but then the boy's father joined in.

"Don't tell my wife to calm down, mister. Because I'm seriously considering hiring a lawyer to sue your school for damages! Now what the hell happened to our son?" Mr. Harris wanted to know.

"I don't know details yet; just that he was assaulted in one of the science classrooms. Miss Chase said she wanted to speak to the both of you first, once she learned you were coming here," Bob told them.

"Cordelia? She was involved, too? Is she all right? Where is she?" Mrs. Harris asked immediately.

"She's fine, in fact she was the one who brought Alexander to the nurse's office. She's with your son right now, I'm told she refused to leave his side – uh, Nurse Greenleigh? Could you please ask Miss Chase to join us?" Bob asked the school nurse diffidently.

"Of course, Principal Flutie. Just a moment." The woman slipped into the adjacent room, and returned a few seconds later with the cheerleader in question.

"Hey, Mr. Harris. Mrs. Harris," the girl said courteously, smiling as the nurse vanished into the other room again to check on her patient.

"Hello, dear," the mother smiled back at the new arrival, but then she quickly got down to business. "Cordelia, what happened to Xander?"

"He got attacked by the substitute teacher," Miss Chase said simply.

"WHAT?!" Bob exclaimed. "What are you talking about? I don't believe it! What are you –"

"You think I'm lying, Principal Flutie?" she interrupted, the girl's megawatt smile suddenly turning shark-like. "Well, I'm sure Daddy would be interested to know that. And so would the school board! And so would Daddy's friend in the Sunnydale Police Department, Detective Paul Stein I think his name is –"

"No, wait a minute! I, I mean, there's no need for the police to get involved here. Is there?" Bob could feel himself starting to perspire heavily.

"You tell me, Principal Flutie," the Chase girl said coolly, almost sounding like she was the one in charge of the school instead of him. "Thing is I've already told some of what happened to Mr. Wyndam-Pryce, the librarian – he was passing by at the time, and he helped me bring Xander here – but I can go into detail now, if you like?"

"Go ahead, girl, tell us what happened," Mr. Harris nodded, before Bob had a chance to say anything.

"Well. I noticed Miss French staring at Xander a lot during Biology class, which kinda got me suspicious. I mean, he wasn't doing anything weird or whatever, so I couldn't help wondering – why would she focus on him so much? Then when Miss French asked him to stay behind after the bell rang, my suspicions about her being some sorta cougar only grew worse! So I hung around outside the classroom after everyone left – and when I went inside again, I saw Miss French looking completely pissed and Xander looking totally stunned! Well, things got a bit confused after that – I mean, there was some yelling and screaming – but then she took a swing at him, and Xander couldn't get out of the way fast enough, so he went down hard. And I don't know where Miss French is now; I was too busy running over to check whether the big dummy was okay..."

Worried, Bob could see the angry eyes of the parents immediately swing around in his direction. He stammered, "Uh, Mr. and Mrs. Harris –"

"What kind of teachers do you have in this school?!" the red-haired woman shouted.

"Hell with it, I'm calling a lawyer," the father grunted.

"I can recommend the firm Daddy uses, they're very good – and they might even give you the Chase family discount on their hourly rates," the cheerleader said brightly.

"Please, uh, there's no need to get the lawyers involved," Bob stammered. "At least not yet, surely! I, I –"

A knock on the door to the nurse's office distracted everyone at just the right time, and Mr. Wyndam-Pryce came in. The British man looked disturbed as he said, "Ah, excuse me, Mr. Flutie. Could I possibly have a word?"

"Have a sentence, even," the Chase girl said flippantly, ignoring the annoyed look the librarian sent her.

"Is this about the substitute teacher? That Miss French woman?" Mrs. Harris demanded.

"Well, yes, actually. I was just with the headmaster's secretary, you see, and, and she supplied Miss French's personnel file to me in order to give to him. And, err, I'd say he needs to look at this immediately; especially the woman's year of birth," the librarian said, before handing over a yellow manila folder.

Bon frowned, opening the folder and examining the listed date of birth. His eyes grew wide as he exclaimed, "Natalie French was born in 1907?!"

"What? That's crazy! Miss French wasn't, like, ninety years old! She was in her late twenties – early thirties, at the most!" the Chase girl said emphatically. "Are you sure you're looking at the right personnel file?"

"I think it's safe to say that we can be sure of very little right now, Miss Chase," the librarian straightened up, looking at her with disdain.

"He's right. Assuming these records are accurate, then this... this is identity fraud on a major scale," Bob said, suddenly seeing some light at the end of a very dark tunnel. "I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Harris, but in light of this new evidence – well, this is obviously going to become a criminal investigation of some kind, and so it wouldn't be proper for me to say anything more about this matter right now. After I contact the Sunnydale PD, though –"

"The machinery takes over, the police interviews start, blah, blah, blah," Miss Chase cut in, looking annoyed. "And I bet they're gonna want to interview _**me**_ , right? Just great! That's all I need – being forced to spend time in some smelly interview room, and trying not to gag on the lousy excuse for coffee the Sunnydale cops have!"

Bob said nothing, even though he noticed how the Harris parents were smiling indulgently at the brat's self-centered whining. Good, let them be distracted by her childish antics, he needed a chance to –

"Principal Flutie! Principal Flutie!" his secretary suddenly rushed through the door, looking very distraught. "Come quick! They just found Dr. Gregory!"

"Well, that's good –" Bob started to say.

"No, it's not! He's dead! A couple of students found his body in the school cafeteria's freezer! And, and his head was missing! Dr. Gregory was murdered!" the secretary added, sounding hysterical.

"Murdered?!" Miss Chase echoed, now looking pale and frightened.

"Excuse me, all of you. Obviously, I need to contact the police at once," Bob said, just before he hurried out of the nurse's office.

The way he saw it, he now had an excellent excuse to say that the assault by Miss French (or whoever she really was) on a student wasn't such a big priority, anymore; but on the other hand, he definitely needed to figure out how to prove that this latest fiasco – a murder on campus, no less – was in no way his fault!

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Okay, here's the thing - I always found the events of "Teacher's Pet" to be a bit contrived...I mean, masquerading as a substitute teacher if all you needed was a couple of male virgins to mate with, and fertilize your eggs? You may as well just grab your targets outside the Bronze, or whatever - and I didn't bother with the whole claw-hand vampire sub-plot, mostly since the Master is gone in this AU and that vamp never would have needed to do 'penance' that way. Just assume that Buffy will encounter that guy at some point, and slay the vampire with extreme prejudice.

And as for the events of "The Witch", I mostly skipped over them because, if you recall, both Amy and her dad have left town and Catherine Madison is nothing but a rotting corpse by this point. I did my best to hypothesize on how and why Buffy would have eventually quit the cheerleader squad; please tell me if it works for you, and what you thought of this chapter overall!

My thanks as always, of course, goes to everyone who is still reading and reviewing and sending feedback to me about this story!


	22. The Silence Of The Hellmouth

**Chapter Twenty-two: The Silence Of The Hellmouth**

 **Spike's warehouse lair, Sunnydale**

 **February 5** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

{ _BLOODY TRAITOR!_ } Spike cursed furiously, enraged as he stomped around the abandoned warehouse which he and Drusilla now called home. { _Can't believe I actually fell for Angel's_ _ **act**_ _! That no-good, useless, soul-infested wanker..._ }

He'd recently learned that his grandsire had been playing him for a fool, all along. That Angel really was – de-fanged, for want of a better word, thanks to that filthy soul of his. And if that wasn't enough, the arsehole was actually siding with the Slayer against his own kind! Against his own family, even!

Ever since he and Dru had killed that mayor bloke, Richard Wilkins – chipper nancy boy, that one, until he'd realized he was bloody well done for and dropped the act – things had slowly been getting better for them in this town. As in more murder, more mayhem, more _**fun**_ – until Dru's sire had shown his true colors.

{ _Can't believe how that bastard actually fell in love with the bloody_ _ **Slayer**_ _,_ } Spike shook his head in disgust and disbelief, recalling Angel's confession about that – and far more clearly than he wanted to. { _I thought – well, I_ _ **used**_ _to think that that was impossible! Shite. Guess I'm simply gonna have to dust him, first chance I get –_ }

"Spoike? Spoike?" his beloved called out, and so he hurried over to find Drusilla as quickly as he could.

"What is it, luv?" Spike asked, finding her on her knees in their ad hoc bedroom. "Dru?"

"Shhh!" she said warningly. "Down 'ere, quick!"

Puzzled, Spike nonetheless obeyed her commands. He watched as she drew an elaborate circle on the floor, then some kinda weird diagram around it. Symbol. Seal, maybe. Eh, whatever. Dru then poured sand into the circle, and started chanting in Latin whilst gripping an ancient parchment.

"Lords of the Underdark, harken! Hear my prayer to summon the Gentlemen and their Footmen. The child to the mother, and the river to the sea. By Cassiel and Neisa! So mote it be!"

The paper ignited and there was a brief explosion with bright sparks, as Spike attempted to shield his eyes. "Blimey, luv, what was that?!"

Drusilla just smiled, her lunacy clearly evident as she switched back to English and her distinctive Chislehurst accent. "The beginning o' the end, my precious. We'll 'ave a party, like I said – and watch, as the Gentlemen come callin' on everyone's doors!"

* * *

 **A place where nothing need be what it seems**

 **A time meaningless to mortal minds**

Buffy opened her eyes, and slowly and carefully got up out of bed. Walking to her bedroom closet clad in her pyjamas, she opened it and stepped into Sunnydale High School – before suddenly finding herself dressed in her street clothes, and walking down the main corridor of the school.

{ _What the heck?_ } the Slayer asked herself, feeling confused. { _How did I get here? What's going on?_ } She finally arrived outside the library, and walked in. "Wes?"

"Ah, Miss Summers. Good, you're just in time. Please, have a seat," he gestured casually, while staring down at a thick tome of some sort.

"Okay. And just in time for what?" Buffy asked. She then sat down, and stared at him curiously.

"Communication and spoken language aren't the same thing, you see," Wesley said in that annoyingly pompous and pedantic tone he still couldn't help using, sometimes. "It's about inspiration... not the idea itself, but the moment before the idea is verbalised. It's all about the thoughts and experiences that we really don't have a word for, deep down."

"Wes, what kinda crazy are you talkin' about?" Buffy demanded, now feeling exasperated.

"Mr. McNally. You can finally prove useful for once. Lie down on the table," Wes directed, as Jesse came down the stairs to the mezzanine level.

"What's going on here?" she demanded again, not understanding any of this even one iota.

"A demonstration," Wesley replied, as Jesse lay down on the table and the room began to grow darker.

"Resistance is futile. And – they only come out at night," Jesse said tonelessly, his voice flat and robotic, which made Buffy frown.

He wasn't completely lying down on the table, in fact Jesse was resting on his elbows – when the front of his shirt suddenly became drenched with blood. He looked down at himself and said, "Well, that's not right."

The room abruptly became completely dark, and both Wesley and Jesse vanished while her attention was on the nearby window. Buffy subsequently heard the sound of someone humming outside in the corridor.

"The hell?" She sought out the sound of the humming – and found a little girl holding an ornate box in the hall. The kid was staring down at the floor as Buffy asked, "Who are you?"

Not looking up, the girl started chanting:

" _Can't even shout  
_ _Can't even cry  
_ _The Gentlemen are summoned  
_ _And they're coming by  
_ _Looking in windows  
_ _Opening doors  
_ _They need to take seven  
_ _And they might take yours  
_ _Can't call to mom  
_ _Can't say a word  
_ _You're gonna die screaming  
_ _But you won't be heard."_

A hand touched her shoulder from behind, and Buffy turned around to get a momentary glimpse of a horrific, inhuman face staring at her, grinning darkly and wearing a black suit –

* * *

 **1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale**

 **February 13** **th** **, 1997**

"Auughhh!" Buffy found herself back in her bed as she awoke from the dream. She jerked upwards, more than a little freaked; and then she looked around at her bedroom, panting, her heart beating wildly as she strove to calm down. "Oh my God..."

She looked around at the alarm clock on her bedside table. It was 2:32 am, and _**way**_ too early to get up yet. She switched on the nearby lamp and reached for her diary to write down the details of her dream, while they were still fresh in her mind.

"Stupid Slayer dreams, I hate 'em," Buffy grumbled to herself – even as she tried not to think about Jesse's bloodstained shirt and chest, and what that might mean.

* * *

 **The Bronze, Sunnydale**

 **Approximately seventeen hours later**

Willow frowned. "Seriously, Buffy – do you think this outfit makes me look fat?"

"'Course not. It just emphasises your natural willowy looks and charm," Buffy said to her friend, as she took a sip of her mocha latte. "And I speak as one who is not at all biased!"

Willow smiled, before tossing her hair to one side. "Oooh! Hottie alert. Owen Thurman is totally checking you out!"

"Really?" Buffy smiled. She refrained from looking over her shoulder, though, in the direction Willow was staring at. "Well, I did run into him in the library today, while I was telling Wes about that way-freaky Slayer dream I had. He seemed – nice."

"Sure, he is; but I still can't believe he actually talked to you! He hardly talks to anyone. Owen's solitary, mysterious... he can brood for like forty minutes straight, I actually clocked him once!" Willow said enthusiastically. "So what did you guys talk about?"

Buffy hesitated, heading for a nearby table. Then she said, "Emily Dickinson."

"He reads Emily Dickinson?" Willow asked, eagerly following her. "Wow! He's sensitive, yet manly! Hey, wait, you've never even read her. So how did you two discuss her work?"

Buffy pulled out a book from her handbag, and set it down for Willow to see.

"You vixen!" Willow grinned, as they both sat at the table. Then she frowned. "Uh-oh, Cordelia alert!"

This time, Buffy turned around and watched as the brunette sauntered over to Owen and batted her eyelashes at Mr. Cute And Sensitive. She growled, "That _**bitch!**_ "

"Okay, I gotta say it. Meow!" Willow said jokingly, as Buffy turned back to face her. "You really like him, huh?"

"What's not to like? Like you said, Owen's sensitive and manly and I thought we were getting along fine in the library today and what the hell is Cordelia even _**doing**_ with him since it's kinda of the obvious the only guy she really cares about is Xander!" Buffy said in a big rush, before sucking in a deep breath.

"Holy cats, I'm impressed! I mean, Xander and Jesse always tell me that I need to breathe whenever I start to babble like that – and now, I can actually see why," Willow nodded. "You really did get all that out in one breath, huh?"

"Guess so," Buffy admitted, trying not to feel embarrassed.

"Hey, it's cool. Like, welcome to the club!" Willow smiled, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "And I wouldn't be worried if I were you, Cordelia's just trying to make Xander jealous. You can see him over there in the corner, deliberately not looking at her and Owen! Seriously, those two – Buffy, the day they finally get over their issues and end up Mr. and Mrs. Harris is the day I'll finally heave a big sigh of relief!"

Buffy looked at Willow carefully. She knew why her friend had said that – because the redhead truly believed that the only chance the Oracle had to live beyond the next decade was to marry Miss Popularity, and live happily ever after with her – but still, something in the witch's voice... "So. Does that mean you've finally moved on from the guy who thinks of you as the sister he never had?"

Willow's smile immediately vanished, and a pained expression appeared on her face. "No. I've tried – believe me, Buffy, I really have – but I still can't get over him. Just like Jesse still can't get over Cordelia."

"Look, Willow, this is probably none of my business – but my opinion, it's not _**healthy**_ for you to keep mooning over Oracle Boy this way! There's lots of other fish in the sea, ya know. You're sixteen, you're smart, you dress okay, you don't have any visible warts or anything – so there should be heaps of guys willing to ask you out! I mean, why aren't they?" Buffy asked, briefly looking confused.

"Couple reasons," Willow shrugged. "One, all the boys at school know that if they date me, they're forfeiting any chance they've got with the popular girls, on account of Cordelia's minions all hate me – thanks to what I did to Harmony and Gwen, way back when. Two, it's kinda hard to get rid of first impressions, ya know?"

"Huh?"

"Buffy – before I discovered that I could do magic, I really was exactly what Cordelia still accuses me of being! Nerd Girl. Bookworm Girl. You never knew that Willow Rosenberg; and that's why you don't get everyone's attitude towards me," she said pensively, causing the Slayer to look at her in surprise. "Their attitudes towards Xander as well, come to think of it."

{ _Huh. Guess she's got a point._ } Buffy decided to change the subject. "So, it's Valentine's Day tomorrow. Any plans?"

"Oh, no. Besides, ever since last year – well, I've come to the conclusion that Valentine's Day is just a cheap gimmick to sell cards and chocolate, and the whole soul mate thing doesn't really exist. Sheesh, you oughta hear my parents' theories about it," Willow sent her a small smile.

"Yeah, guess you're right. I mean, since neither of us has a boyfriend – what are the odds something special is gonna happen for St. Valentine's?" Buffy shrugged.

* * *

 **Sunnydale Clock Tower Sunnydale**

 **February 14** **th** **, 1997**

It was one o'clock in the morning, and pale greyish hands opened an ornate box – one that Buffy would have instantly recognized from her prophetic Slayer dream, had she been present to see it.

There was a muted, whispering noise – and all over the town, sleeping people everywhere opened their mouths and a white mist came out.

Cordelia. Xander. Willow. Jesse. Wesley. Even Buffy. And more, thousands more – nearly forty thousand people, all told, who opened their mouths as the mists appeared.

And that wasn't counting all the vampires, and the rest of Sunnydale's unofficial population, who did likewise.

As if drawn by a mystical vacuum cleaner, all the white mists traveled through the air to the clock tower and entered into the box, which one of the pale greyish hands closed.

The Gentleman – a grey-white demon with silver, metallic-looking teeth locked in a horrible perpetual grin, and white eyes and drawn-back skin over a bald skull, with an almost-hooked nose – looked at his six brethren with visible satisfaction.

The killing season had now officially begun.

* * *

 **4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

 **Later that morning**

Cordelia got up and out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. She hadn't slept too well last night. Probably because today was a Friday, and she couldn't wait for the weekend to hurry up and finally arrive.

{ _Oh, really,_ } Snide  & Irritating voice said mockingly. { _And here I thought it was because you_ _ **failed**_ _to drive the Dork mad with jealousy last night. Kinda pathetic how you were hoping he'd storm over towards you and Owen, drag you away and then start ravishing you with his lips!_ }

Shut up. I mean, as if _**that**_ was ever gonna happen! I honestly don't know what I was thinking, believing that we were finally gonna become an item after that, that fiasco with the fake Miss French!

{ _You just don't listen, do you? The Dweeb's_ _ **told**_ _you that he needs to maintain a low profile, and more than once! It's just lucky everyone started focusing on the murder of Dr. Gregory, rather than that so-called 'teacher' assaulting him. Otherwise, the Big Dummy would have become the object of public attention_ _ **again**_ _, and totally blamed you for it!_ }

He would not! I mean, how was any of that my fault?

{ _Guilt by association. People saw you carrying the Dimwit to the nurse's office, remember? And you know that nowadays, lots of people keep an eye on you – wherever you go and whatever you do. That's the price for wanting to be the most popular girl in school._ }

Oh, shut up!

Deciding to ignore that annoying voice in her head from now on, Cordelia finished getting undressed, and then she quickly took a shower. Briskly, she blow-dried her hair, and then selected what she was going to wear for school today. A cute blue top and a miniskirt that just screamed unrestrained, assertive and aggressive – yet still coy, affectionate and accessible.

(And it totally didn't matter who happened to come to that particular conclusion, although if he happened to have chocolate-brown eyes which occasionally turned green and sparkly? She wouldn't entirely object to that.)

'Lupe?' Cordelia tried to shout, after she was dressed – but no sound came out of her mouth. At all.

She put a hand to her throat in alarm. 'What's going on?' she mouthed fearfully. { _Oh, God, have I gone deaf or something?_ }

The sound of her own footsteps quickly made her realize that that wasn't the case. So Cordelia raced out of her bedroom, and down the stairs. 'Daddy?! Mother?!' she yelled silently.

There was no reply, and so she raced to the nearest phone in order to call 911. Then she shook her head in annoyance; she couldn't _**speak**_ for crying out loud, how was she supposed to demand help from the person on the other end of the line?

Cordelia ran towards the den, and to her incredible relief, she found both her mother and her father present there. But that relief was short-lived, as her parents were just as mute as she was. Even the maid, when she joined them, couldn't utter a single word.

Daddy gestured at her, Mother and Lupe to stop trying to talk, and turned up the volume of the TV. The anchorman appeared and said, "Good morning, and welcome to KTLA. A big news item just in from Sunnydale, California; the townspeople have come down with an epidemic of – as strange as this may sound – laryngitis."

The newsman then added, "According to our Sunnydale affiliate, it seems everyone woke up this morning completely unable to speak. There's no word yet as to the official cause of this epidemic, even though local authorities have apparently issued a statement – a written one, of course – blaming recent flu vaccinations for what's happened."

The news broadcaster then shook his head and said, "A few skeptics are calling it a city-wide hoax of some kind. Nonetheless, in accordance with the directive issued from City Hall – Sunnydale has shut down all its schools, and businesses will be closed for the time being. For any of you in that town watching this, all residents are advised to stay at home and rest up until the symptoms disappear, or a cure is found. We'll bring you more on this situation as it develops."

Ignoring the rest of the news bulletin, Cordelia waited until her parents had stopped visibly freaking – and then wrote them a note saying that she was going to go to school, anyway. When they protested, she pointed out that she needed to find out what had happened to her friends, and someone had to do something about this.

It was pretty obvious to her that something Hellmouth-y was going on, after all.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **Later that morning**

Xander had mixed feelings about what had happened. Like, it felt weird not being able to talk at all. On the other hand, he didn't have to worry about looking the wrong person in the eye, and doing the whole Oracle thing! Well, hopefully, anyway.

The other upside to the situation was that after he'd arrived at Sunnydale High, despite the place being officially closed for the day – and hey, Valentine's Day; that wasn't a half-bad present in and of itself! – all his friends had shown up too. Then Cordy had barged into the library, her lips moving rapidly even if there was no sound coming out of her mouth –

Wow. He'd never thought he'd see the day that anything could make Cordelia Chase shut up, whenever she got started on one of her rants!

'What's going on?' Xander mouthed to Wesley, who was examining various books strewn all over the table.

'Don't know,' the Watcher mouthed back, after Willow tapped him on the shoulder to get the British man's attention and Xander repeated his question.

'How can we help?' Jesse asked.

'Don't know.' Wes shook his head irritably, before waving at them to start reading the various tomes. 'Try reading these.'

Buffy picked up a book and scowled. 'They're not in English!'

Unfortunately, Wesley was no longer looking at her by this point. So Buffy dropped the book down onto the table in annoyance. The loud noise was a bit startling, given the oppressive silence that had engulfed Sunnydale today. Xander could see Slay-gal wince at the book faux pas, before she grabbed a piece of paper and wrote, 'My throat's feeling extra dry. I'm going to get something from one of the vending machines.'

Wesley nodded, and waved at her to go. Jesse decided to go with her, and Willow quickly joined the Watcher on research duty. Oh, joy – that left him alone with the girl who'd almost castrated him –

'DO SOMETHING!' Cordelia yelled silently at him, suddenly looking pissed.

'Like what?' he mouthed back at her in annoyance.

She grabbed a piece of paper and hastily scribbled, 'I don't know, Doofus! You're the expert on talking, the whole Oracle Guy thing, so think of something!'

'That's got nothing to do with this,' he wrote back to her, the annoyance factor increasing steadily.

'Like hell it doesn't!' Cordelia hastily scrawled. 'Now look me in the eye and give me something to work with. Do your magic trick already, and accomplish something useful!'

{ _Huh. Well, why not? Not like I can think of anything better to do right now._ } So he stared at Cordelia for a full two minutes, the annoyance slowly leaching away, before averting his eyes and writing, 'I don't think it's going to work.'

'Why not?' Cordelia mouthed at him impatiently.

'I could be wrong about this, but I've never actually done the Oracle thing on the same person twice, as far as I know,' Xander wrote down, before turning the piece of paper over and adding, 'And I already did you on your birthday.'

'You didn't do me on my birthday!' Cordelia scribbled angrily, causing him to flush at the inadvertent innuendo. 'Find another way to describe that particular fun-filled evening!'

'Fine. How about confusing? Because I still don't know what I said to you that night, while I was performing,' he wrote, causing Cordelia to look away and move back slightly. Xander caught hold of her hand and used his other hand to lift her chin up, forcing the cheerleader to look at him. 'Please tell me?' he mouthed at her.

Cordy hesitated. Then she wrote on the piece of paper, 'You told me to use my weapons wisely. And that the new girl in town would be serious competition, where you're concerned!'

Xander's eyes went wide. 'You're jealous of Buffy? You think I'd rather have her instead of you?' he wrote down in amazement.

'I don't know. Do you?' Cordelia mouthed at him, looking uncertain.

He shook his head. Then he wrote, 'She doesn't feel that way about me, and I don't feel that way about her. We're just friends.'

'Really?' Cordelia mouthed at him in astonishment, after reading what he had to say.

Xander nodded. He immediately got an armful of Cordelia Chase in response, as she hugged him – before sanity went flying out the window and she kissed him hard, full on the mouth.

{ _Oh, God, I've missed this!_ } It didn't take him more than a moment to respond enthusiastically, and kiss her back. Oh, geez – those warm, lush, raspberry-flavored lips –

* * *

 **Science classroom, Sunnydale High**

 **Later that afternoon**

Willow tried not to feel ill at the sight of Cordelia smiling that Pepsodent commercial smile of hers, and sitting on Xander's lap while Wesley prepared the overhead projector and Jesse lowered the white screen at the front of the classroom. She tried – but didn't succeed very well.

Oh, sure, she felt kinda happy for them – for Xander, anyway – but it wasn't easy trying to ignore the bleak, bitter emotions of heartbreak and pain roiling inside her. Part of her still didn't want those two to be together – that part of her which still longed to become Mrs. Willow Harris one day, somehow. { _It's not fair..._ }

She knew it was pointless, but still, Willow couldn't help wanting things to be different. Wanting for Madam Devora to have said _**her**_ name in that tent, last summer. Maybe if she'd been there – if she hadn't screwed up, and left Xander all alone with the big-breasted harpy that day – would that have changed anything?

No, or at least nothing important. Xander had never felt and would never feel that way about her, after all.

Sighing, she doubted it would ever be easy to see Xander and Cordelia like this – well, unless she finally found a boyfriend of her own, one day. Maybe. And Willow was pretty sure Jesse felt the exact same way she did, given he was deliberately looking away from his best friend and the girl he loved –

{ _Love sucks,_ } Willow thought grumpily to herself. But then Wesley started his presentation, and she focused her attention completely on him.

The first transparency read, 'Who are the Gentlemen?' Wesley quickly replaced it with another that said, 'They are fairy tale monsters.' Then he showed a picture of a Gentleman, which he had created from Buffy's description of the thing she had seen in her Slayer dream and from one of the books in the library.

Without waiting to see if anyone had any questions, Wes showed a new plastic transparency that stated, 'What do they want?' Then he gestured at her and Willow nodded, holding up a finger and pointing to her chest.

Jesse stared at her in confusion. He cupped himself and mouthed, 'Boobs?'

Everyone gave him a Look before Wesley changed the transparency. It simply said 'Hearts', along with a hand-drawn picture of a human heart.

Willow could see Jesse quickly get it and look embarrassed, sinking down into his chair. Ignoring him, Wesley then showed everyone a new transparency whose text said, 'They come to a town' and which had a picture of two Gentlemen on a hill overlooking a number of buildings.

The next one stated, 'They steal everyone's voices' and it had a picture of two Gentlemen on the hill and four people losing their voices, visible lines coming out of their mouths.

Then Wesley hesitated, before showing a picture of a Gentleman approaching a house, along with text that said 'They use the following modus operandi.' The next transparency showed the Gentleman standing over a person in bed. The one after that showed the Gentleman with a red knife, with the person's chest covered in red, and red blood dripping onto the floor from the knife. Finally, Wesley showed a transparency of a Gentleman holding a human heart that was dripping red, with an enormous amount of red on the victim's chest and the bed and the floor.

Willow exchanged a disturbed look with Buffy. She then saw Cordelia turn away and press her cheek against Xander's, a completely disgusted expression on her face. { _Well, guess I can't blame her; this is just totally_ _ **gross**_ _!_ }

The next transparency made Willow pay attention to the Watcher again. The text read, 'They will harvest seven' and there was a picture of seven human hearts.

Xander snapped his fingers to get everyone's attention. He held up a piece of paper with overly large letters: 'HOW DO WE KILL THEM?'

Wesley nodded, and put a new transparency on the projector. It read, 'According to the fairy tale no weapon forged can kill them.' There was a picture of a Gentleman with three swords in his body, but he was still holding a knife and looking unaffected. Then the Watcher put another transparency on the projector. It stated, 'But the princess screamed once and they all died.' This time, the picture was of a woman screaming, and two Gentlemen lying dead.

Cordelia reached into her backpack on the floor before holding up an Alanis Morissette CD, and then she pantomimed dying. She smiled hopefully, but the smile quickly vanished as Wesley changed the transparency yet again.

The text said, 'Only a real human voice will work.' There was a somewhat crude drawing of a Gentleman dancing next to an old-style record player, as noise came out of it.

Cordelia threw her hands up in annoyance and pouted. Then Willow saw her blinding smile reappear, thanks to the encouraging look Xander sent the brunette's way. { _Ugh. Seriously, do I have to watch this? Well, I suppose so, yeah. Gotta increase my tolerance somehow for when they finally get married, after all!_ }

Then Wesley showed a new transparency, one that read 'Miss Summers will patrol tonight.' There was a diagram of a girl with a stake in one hand, holding it up in her right hand silhouetted against the town buildings. Buffy certainly didn't look pleased with the way Wesley had drawn her – her hair was way too short, and her butt way too big – but the next transparency read, 'None of you should be alone until the Gentlemen are dealt with.'

Willow nodded; that made perfect sense to her. They could set up a buddy system or something for the rest of the day, given that no one could call out for help in the face of danger. Still, what about for after sunset, when everyone in the group had to go home? All of them had parents, who were totally ignorant of the perils in Sunnydale! Granted, hers were currently giving a lecture in Houston, Texas –

Getting an idea, she quickly scribbled in large letters on her own piece of paper, 'SLEEPOVER AT MY PLACE TONIGHT?'

As soon as her classmates saw what she'd written, they all nodded in agreement. The meeting quickly broke up afterwards, with everyone pairing off and going their separate ways.

Willow started walking towards Jesse's home with her friend tagging alongside, thinking to herself, { _Okay, plan's set. And sure am glad I don't have to try to convince my parents that this is a good time for a slumber party!_ }

* * *

 **Outside 6305 Westminster Place, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

{ _Dammit all to hell, what_ _ **are**_ _these things?!_ } Buffy growled, as she fought one of the Gentlemen's lackeys.

It had been kind of a crazy day. Silence everywhere – apart from cars honking at one another, and stuff like that. Some of the townspeople had been wandering around, looking sorta lost and bewildered. Most of the others were missing in action, probably at home; but with the doors shut and the blinds lowered, from what she'd seen.

All the shops had been closed – aside from Hank's Liquor Mart, which had looked like it had been doing pretty good business, what with all the people she'd seen going in and out of there. Someone – probably Deputy Mayor Finch, who was now the acting interim mayor – had gotten the bright idea of quarantining the entire town, so she figured the odds were if Sunnydale's residents couldn't run away from their troubles – they'd decided to try drowning them, instead!

Probably a good thing her mom had decided to have a few sips of bourbon herself and then go to bed early; it had made it easier to sneak out of the house and do what she could to save people tonight.

Kinda weird not being able to quip at the vamps during the fight, though. So she'd just staked and moved on, staked and moved on. Buffy figured things could go back to normal _**after**_ she'd dealt with the voice-stealing assholes that'd caused all this –

And that was when she'd seen them.

Something straight out of her nightmares, like literally.

The seven Gentlemen had shown up in the middle of town, gliding along about six inches off the ground. Floating, like the law of gravity didn't even apply to them or something! And for each Gentleman, there was some kinda minion. Minions with pinkish bandaged heads and who were wearing straitjackets, but their arms weren't tied together – and they moved in a totally caveman-like way, shuffling along and swinging their arms and not even able to stand up straight!

Then the Gentlemen had split up into three pairs, the pairs heading north, south or east; while the lone remaining Gentleman had headed west, with his Igor-like lackey. Buffy had followed after them, and they'd arrived at Willow's house before the Slayer decided enough was enough. The hell with that 'no weapon forged can kill them' crap – if she had to, she was just going to have to rip the bad guys apart with her bare hands!

Unfortunately, the lackey was a far better fighter than he looked, and while she was busy the Gentleman entered the house –

 _ **CRACK!**_

Buffy simply stared in astonishment as the Igor dropped dead of a broken neck – she saw hands and arms, and then she saw –

{ _YOU!_ } Buffy thought to herself furiously, withdrawing her stake after recognising the familiar features of Angelus. Or Angel, or whatever he wanted to call himself.

'No!' the bloodsucker mouthed desperately, raising his arms and moving back. Then he pointed to the open front door of Willow's house, before looking at her meaningfully.

{ _Crap!_ } Buffy cursed silently, knowing the undead asshole was right. Hoping like hell that Xander was right, that this _**thing**_ wasn't necessarily an enemy, she ran towards the front door of the house –

She managed to enter the foyer just in time to witness Willow levitate a table lamp, and hurl it at the Gentleman. It smashed directly against his head – but the monster didn't even slow down, still grinning horrifically at his intended target.

Jesse.

{ _Oh, no, you don't!_ } Buffy thought furiously, as the Gentleman raised his scalpel. She attacked him, but the fairy tale demon simply grabbed her by the neck and threw her aside, Buffy silently crying out in pain as she crashed against the living room wall.

Xander – who had been shielding Cordelia behind him – suddenly moved in front of the Gentleman, blocking the creature's path. As she attempted to get up off the floor, Buffy blearily saw him lock eyes with the bad guy – before she abruptly realized what Oracle Boy was trying to pull off.

{ _No! No, you_ _ **idiot**_ _, you can't depend on that working! Not while we're all under some kinda silencing spell like this!_ }

Out of the corner of one eye, Buffy saw Willow restraining Cordelia – who was silently screaming at her honey not to do what he was doing, it looked like – but even as she started to move, Xander's somewhat farfetched plan worked.

His eyes turned green, and then sparkly and shimmery, just before a loud scream came outta his mouth.

The Gentleman looked totally shocked despite his grin, his eyes widening for less than a moment – before the demon's head exploded. There was gooey splatter everywhere, as the fragmented head parts (and the rest of him) quickly fell to the ground.

{ _Ewww!_ } Buffy shuddered in loathing, she hadn't been far enough away to avoid her clothes getting officially ruined for _ever_. Still, no time to worry about that now –

She grabbed Xander by the wrist – the Oracle was only now becoming aware of what had just happened – and dragged him towards the door. She had to shove Cordelia aside when that girl tried to stop her, but that was of no consequence – the mission was what mattered right now, after all!

Buffy yanked Xander outside and slowly mouthed, 'I need you as my big gun on this. Understand?' A few seconds later he nodded, and so she let him go. But then the nosferatu showed up again!

'Are you two okay?' Angelus silently asked, hesitantly keeping his distance from her. First _**smart**_ thing he'd done tonight, in her view, apart from killing that demon's henchman –

'Yeah. Help us!' Xander mouthed back at him, looking totally unafraid of the vampire. Which suddenly set off her Slayer radar – did those two actually _**know**_ each other? Apart from that one time they'd all met outside the Bronze?

{ _Never mind. Again, not the time, even if this looks pretty darn suspicious!_ } Buffy thought to herself, as the Vlad wannabe fell in step beside the Oracle and they all hurried off, heading east. { _We need to stop those darn things from killing anyone, stat!_ }

Unfortunately, it didn't work out that way; by the time they managed to track down the bad guys' secret lair – the clock tower not far from City Hall – six of the seven jars had already been filled with human hearts. And Xander was nearly trophy number seven before Buffy spotted the box from her dream and smashed it – causing the thousands of white mists to be released, including her own, as it traveled back down her throat.

Buffy immediately screamed, destroying all six Gentlemen in one swell foop. Or whatever the British types like Wes called it, anyway. She screamed and screamed for a good fifteen seconds, before she finally stopped.

"Oh, geez," Xander groaned; he'd been covered in goop from all the Gentlemen exploding around him, drenched from head to toe. "I am gonna be showering from now until Doomsday, and it _**still**_ isn't gonna be enough for me to ever feel clean again!"

* * *

 **Spike's warehouse lair, Sunnydale**

 **February 15** **th** **, 1997**

"Oh, bother!" Drusilla pouted, not long after the midnight hour. "Spike-y, it didn't work. The wicked Slayer, she still lives. And my Kitten – oooh, no jam and crumpets for you! Bad moggie for convincing the Slayer to let the Angel-beast help, just now!"

For his part, Spike wasn't happy either, right at the moment – he loved the sound of his own voice too much to _**not**_ be in a bad mood, after the past twenty-four hours of enforced silence. But what the hell, all that was over now – and so things could finally get back to normal around here.

Namely murder, mayhem and good old-fashioned homicidal _**fun!**_

"As you say, luv. Still, never mind – Angel's gonna get his, soon enough. And there's always next time where that green-eyed whelp's concerned, after all!"

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Am I a complete stinker for putting Xander through the wringer like this, or what? Please tell me I'm not channelling my inner Joss again! Also, please tell me what you thought of the latest chapter; and as always, thanks for reading and reviewing and/or sending feedback!


	23. Choices

**Chapter Twenty-three: Choices**

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **February 17** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Angel climbed through the sewer entrance into the high school library, wondering if he was making a big mistake in coming here.

After the Gentlemen had been dealt with the other night, he'd vanished out of that clock tower immediately. Even with the Oracle boy more or less on his side and vouching for him, Buffy might have decided to try to slay him anyway, once the immediate threat was over. He certainly hadn't missed the suspicious stares she'd given both him and Harris, when she'd thought they hadn't been looking.

{ _It's weird, but – I get the feeling it wasn't supposed to be like this,_ } Angel cogitated, ignoring the constant sneering and taunts from his inner Angelus. { _Then again, Whistler_ _ **did**_ _say that a new future had been created way back when; that stuff about the forces of darkness trying to bring about Armageddon by using Drusilla, somehow. And let's not forget that rogue Power who was manipulating everyone, even me! So, I suppose it's not too surprising how everything that's happened since last year feels – wrong, somehow._ }

Angel quickly put all that out of his mind, though, as he walked over to the librarian. Buffy's Watcher. The Sassenach was young – younger than he'd expected. And there was something – something vaguely familiar about him –

"Ahhhh!" the Council operative yelped, surprised, as the man finally noticed his presence. "Who the devil are you? And how did you get in here?"

"There's a sewer entrance that leads into this place, I found it not long ago. And as for the first question?" He paused. "The name's Angel."

Predictably enough, the Watcher jumped backwards, clumsily reaching for a crucifix in his jacket pocket. He held it out and proclaimed, "Back, creature of the night! I, I mean it!"

"Please, don't embarrass yourself. And besides, there's no need for that. If I was still the same soulless killing machine I was a hundred years ago, you'd already be dead by now," Angel said firmly, but making sure to keep his distance from the holy icon. "What's your name, anyway?"

"I'm – the name is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, Angelus," the Watcher said shakily, but not lowering his cross in the slightest.

{ _Ah. Now I get why there's something familiar about him._ } "I already told you; the name's Angel, not Angelus. And Wyndam-Pryce? Any relation to Geoffrey Wyndam-Pryce?" he asked, strolling forward to examine some of the books on a nearby bookshelf.

"My grandfather," the British man said suspiciously.

"Suspected as much. There's a slight family resemblance, after all," Angel shrugged, examining one of the books and taking it down off the shelf.

He felt more than saw the Watcher lower the crucifix. "You knew him? I find that rather hard to believe. Grandfather never once mentioned encountering the legendary Angelus, before he passed away a few years ago..."

"For the third and last time, the name's Angel," he said irritably, before placing the book back on the shelf. He looked back at the nervous Englishman and said, "And for the record, your grandfather never actually learned my name. Back during World War One, we briefly worked together against the Germans and Kakistos –"

"Kakistos? The vampire widely considered the, the worst of the worst!?" Wyndam-Pryce's eyes were now almost bulging out of his head.

"Yeah. Long story. But in a nutshell, we were forced into a temporary alliance to destroy that vampire's cult, after the rest of your grandfather's platoon was killed on the wrong side of the German lines. After it was all over, Pryce agreed to let me go, out of recognition for my help. That's all ancient history now, though," Angel shrugged, ignoring the freaked look on the Watcher's face. "I need to talk to you about something else."

"What, exactly?" Wyndam-Pryce now looked less terrified, but he was definitely still rattled. "And why me?"

"You're Buffy's Watcher. And I'm hoping you can help me," Angel replied.

"It's against Council policy to help vampires in any way, shape or form," the man parroted the company line almost straightaway.

"Not even if the vampire has a soul, and wants to become human?" Angel had to preventing himself from smirking as he saw Wyndam-Pryce's jaw drop, trying to deal with that concept. "Hey, you still with me?"

"Uh, yes, yes..." He could see the man still attempting to come to grips with that unexpected bit of news before the Watcher added, "I am. So, um – you really do have a soul, then? May I ask what proof you have of that assertion? And – why do you want to become human, exactly?"

"As for question the second, partly because Xander Harris told me to do it as soon as possible during his – oracular pronouncement. He refused to tell me why when I eventually asked, though," Angel shrugged slightly. "He said that he had to keep silent about that – that it would be safer for him and Buffy if I didn't know. I'm assuming you know what the real reason is, though?"

"Ah. Yes, I do. And I completely agree with the lad's judgment call; that information must remain secret, at least for the time being," Wyndam-Pryce nodded. Then he frowned. "And the soul thing?"

"Revenge by Kalderash gypsies, for killing the favorite daughter of that Romany tribe," Angel replied shortly. "That's why I don't feed on humans any longer."

"Utterly fascinating," the British man breathed, staring at him.

"Yeah, well, maybe to you," a Bronx-accented voice interrupted the conversation, as Whistler appeared out of the shadows. "But here's the thing, fellas – there's other priorities right at the moment!"

"Who are you?" Wyndam-Pryce demanded, taking a step back and raising the crucifix again.

"Oh, knock it off, four eyes! I'm no vampire, so waving that around isn't gonna accomplish squat. And the name's Whistler. Well, lately it is, anyway," the agent of balance introduced himself.

"Where have you been, Whistler? 'Cause I haven't seen you for over a month, nearly two," Angel frowned.

"Oh, I've been around, Rat Boy. The Powers have kept me kinda busy, ya know," Whistler shrugged.

"The Powers? The Powers That Be?" Wyndam-Pryce asked in astonishment, lowering his cross again. "Are, are you one of their Messengers? I've heard rumors, of course, but I –"

"Messenger, yup. And right now, the message from my bosses is for Blood Breath here to drink this, already," Whistler interrupted. He then held out his right arm, and a small flask with green liquid appeared in his hand with a brief sparkle of lights.

"What is that?" Wyndam-Pryce asked, staring at the liquid curiously as Angel took the flask hesitantly.

"The answer to everyone's problems," Whistler shrugged again. Off their looks, he sighed in exasperation. "Can't anyone simply take my word for it, just for once? Sheesh, fine! Mr. Walking Dead is holding a combination of Mohra demon blood, and a cocktail of mystical steroids you don't want to ask too many questions about. He drinks that, and voila! Angel's not only human again, but he also gets to keep most of the strength he's got as a vampire. Which is pretty important for the future, apparently."

Angel looked down at the flask in wonder and suspicion as the Watcher just stood there, the man's mouth hanging open with disbelief. Ignoring that he asked, "Meaning?"

"Well, that's the thing, Captain Hair-gel. That rogue Power who tried to manipulate everyone, she not only upset the other PTBs – she pissed off a lot of the Elder Gods, and quite a few Lesser Gods as well," Whistler replied reflectively. He then looked around and added, "I'm assuming you've heard of someone nicknamed the 'Dark Lady'?"

"Yes," Angel chorused in unison with the Watcher, before exchanging a look with the mortal. Then he focused back on his mentor, "Drusilla mentioned her once. And I'm pretty sure I told you about that, didn't I?"

"Yeah. Well, apparently, that particular broad is otherwise known as the Goddess of War, Prophecy and Death. And from what I've learned from the Powers lately, you _**don't**_ want to get her angry at you!" Whistler shook his head. "So anyway, some compromises were agreed to up there in the Higher Planes. That's why once you drink that, fella – you need to get out of Sunnydale."

"What?!" Angel exclaimed. "Why? I mean – what about Buffy? How am I supposed to protect her, if I'm not here?"

" _ **You**_ are supposed to protect my Slayer?" Wyndam-Pryce demanded, sounding incredulous. "Was, was that intended to be some sort of joke? Vampire humor, which I can't understand?"

"Nah. See, originally, that's what I recruited Lord of the Brood here for. 'Cause even though I didn't know it, there was a whole bunch of nasty stuff which the rogue Power had planned to happen – which included the appearance of Acathla, and an Ascension by some dark wizard into pure demon status. One of the Old Ones, themselves," Whistler said, almost causing Angel to drop the flask in horror. "But all that's no longer on the table, thanks to that so-called Dark Lady."

Angel struggled to focus for a moment, ignoring the Watcher; who had almost started hyperventilating with shock. "Well, that's – good, I guess. But, but if Buffy's still in danger from Spike and Dru –"

"Yeah, that she is. But officially not an issue anymore, at least as far as you're concerned," Whistler interrupted him. "So forget about helping yourself to that particular piece of jailbait, okay? Now drink up, already! And then get your ass over to Los Angeles –"

"Why there?" Wyndam-Pryce interrupted, finally getting himself under control again. Just barely, but still.

"Eh, there's a Seer whose marriage needs saving, not to mention roughly half a dozen apocalypses that need to be averted within the next decade or so," Whistler shrugged. The Messenger then glanced back at him and said, "Well?"

Angel hesitated. { _Do I really want to do this?_ } Even though he had yearned to become human again from the moment he had laid eyes on the Chosen One, it had to be admitted – he didn't know how he would actually fit into the mortal world if that dream finally came true. After all... no birth certificate, no driver's license, no social security number – officially, he didn't exist. Plus no job, no friends, no –

{ _No Buffy._ }

But then – that didn't really matter, did it?

He loved her, yes. But she didn't feel the same way about him. Maybe it had been completely naïve of him to ever think she would, but – deep down, he'd been hoping for it to happen anyway. Foolishness, obviously.

Plus Buffy was sixteen, and he'd be reborn into his twenty-six year old body if he did this. Well, he assumed so, anyway. So there would be a ten-year age gap between them. And while it didn't seem like all that big a difference to him – heck, Angel could easily remember when it had been the accepted custom for teenage girls to be married off to men in their late forties or early fifties – he knew that in Buffy's view, it most definitely would be.

After all, here in southern California – the state obsessed with youth and vitality – you were almost considered a geriatric case by the time you hit twenty-five. Maybe if he waited a year or two for Buffy to grow up some more –

{ _No. It wouldn't make any difference. Plus, don't forget the Harris boy's warning; you_ _ **know**_ _he wouldn't have told you to do this before it was too late, if there wasn't a damn good reason for it!_ }

Angel suddenly got the strangest feeling that it was either now or never – so, albeit with some reluctance, he raised the flask to his lips and drank.

It was like liquid fire pouring down his throat, before rushing through every cell, every organ, energising them in a way he hadn't experienced since the night Darla had killed and turned him. His inner Angelus vanished, howling with helpless fury as his human physiology was restored with a short burst of white light.

"I, I think it worked," Angel started gasping, taking in deep breaths as his heart started beating for the first time in centuries, and the flask vanished from his hand; thanks to Whistler's latest handiwork.

"Incredible," Wyndam-Pryce muttered in wide-eyed wonder. "Here, catch!"

On reflex, Angel caught the crucifix Wyndam-Pryce threw to him; and he was astonished to discover that it didn't hurt him. At all. { _Wow. This is gonna take some getting used to –_ }

But before he had a chance say anything, Whistler was grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him out of the library. The Watcher urgently called out, "No, wait! I still have questions –"

"Yeah, I'm not surprised. Knowledge is like an addictive drug for that type, y'know. Monarchy Boy could interrogate you nonstop for another two years, and _**still**_ not be satisfied with whatever he's learned," Whistler grumbled to Angel, quickly yanking him along. "Congrats on making the right choice just now, by the way."

Angel nodded, accepting the commendation. "Thanks. So, uh, now that I'm human again – can you tell me _**why**_ I needed to do this?"

Whistler remained silent until they were out of the school building. Then he said somewhat cryptically, "You'll find out, sometime around May. Maybe."

* * *

 **Spike's warehouse lair, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

Spike was right in the middle of playing hide the salami with Drusilla in their bedroom – and so initially, he misunderstood her screams of pain to be ones of pleasure, instead. But eventually it sunk into his brain that something was wrong, after she started thrashing and hurling her arms around like crazy. "What is it, luv? What's wrong?"

"Daddy's gone! Gone, gone, GONE!" his naked sire hollered, as he withdrew from inside her. "And so's the Angel-beast! Nowhere to be found – missing, wiped out. Vanished completely, they 'ave! Both of 'em!"

{ _Really,_ } Spike thought, before concluding that Angel had just been dusted; and that Dru had felt it happen through the sire-childe bond. Well, former bond, anyway. He smiled, { _Well, now. Reckon the Slayer must've got 'im, wot? Too bad, mate, I was hoping ta do ya in meself! Still, never mind. As long as the old man's gone fer good, I'm 'appy!_ }

"There, there, pet," Spike said comfortingly as Drusilla wept, even though there was a big grin on his face as he said that. "It'll be alright, eventually. 'N look at it this way; at least him and Darla are finally back together again!"

* * *

 **Skipton Castle, North Yorkshire**

 **February 24** **th** **, 1997**

Quentin Travers sat patiently, waiting for his companion to read through young Wyndam-Pryce's latest report from the Hellmouth. The one and only Rupert Giles, son of Nelson.

"Hrmm," Rupert said, re-reading the document carefully. "Hrmmm."

"Well?" Quentin asked, his patience now exhausted.

"It's fascinating reading, I must say. Incomplete, of course. But still, utterly fascinating how a vampire cursed with a soul – incredible as _**that**_ sounds – was actually restored to human form," Giles replied, putting the report back on the table. "It, it almost makes one think of vampirism as a, a treatable disease, actually. Well, sort of." The Englishman then brought a cup of tea to his lips, and took a small sip.

"Yes, I suppose. But incomplete, Rupert? Why do you say that?" Travers asked, reaching for his own cup of tea.

"Come now, Quentin, please don't insult my intelligence. You know why," the younger Watcher put down the cuppa. "Why would Angelus – or Angel, or whatever he wished to call himself – ever make contact with one of us in the first place? What was that former vampire even doing there in that high school library, talking to Wyndam-Pryce, before that Whistler person showed up?"

Quentin grunted, he should have known that Giles would spot that. "It's worrisome, I must admit. Wesley isn't acting completely dependably, at least not anymore –"

"Well, but that's hardly surprising, though – surely?" Rupert interrupted, leaning forward. "You and the, the Head of the Council – you were the ones who insisted on keeping Wyndam-Pryce in the dark about what the Slayer is destined to do in a few months' time, weren't you? So did you honestly expect the man to, to remain blindly loyal, after something like that? Give over, Quentin! Hardly likely."

He sighed. "It was necessary. Too many people already knew the secret, and it was assumed Miss Summers would inform him – and Roger's son would recognize the need for silence, afterwards."

"I'm sure she did, and he did. But _**you**_ of all people should've known that Wyndam-Pryce wouldn't have liked being made to look like a... well, an ignorant buffoon, i-in front of his Slayer!" Giles remarked, before swallowing another sip of his tea. "From what I've heard, th-that Summers girl is already enough of a nightmare for any Watcher to try to deal with. Rather glad I'm not the one there with her on the Hellmouth, actually – you, ah, you unintentionally did me a favor there, so thank you for that."

"Yes, well, let's move on," Quentin said uncomfortably. "You've confirmed the Romany connection, I take it?"

"Yes, of course. Met with the tribe's elder woman two days ago in Eastern Europe, n-not to mention the spy they had there on the Hellmouth," Rupert nodded. "Charming young woman by the name of Janna Kalderash. And, well, she struck me as a remarkably brave sort, y'know. Well, she'd have to be – what with the way she willingly returned home to face her relatives, who were all absolutely furious with her! Silly buggers weren't happy about her failing to prevent that vampire from regaining his humanity. Although how the devil she was supposed to accomplish that, I-I have no idea."

"Your recommendation?" Quentin asked, making a mental note to inquire more about that later.

Rupert shrugged slightly. "Ms. Kalderash decided to abandon her family and her people after they all turned on her, so she's now effectively a, uh, an independent agent. She's currently staying with me in my flat, until she can find a place of her own. So the offer of an alliance might be received favorably."

Quentin leaned back, steepling his fingers. "I see. So, do you believe she'd agree to resume spying on Angelus for us? Or whatever he'll decide to call himself, now that he's human again."

"I doubt it," Giles replied. "I-in my view, Ms. Kalderash seemed glad to finally be quit of that whole sorry business. And speaking of alliances – well, you've read Wyndam-Pryce's account of that particular conversation, of course. 'Roughly half a dozen apocalypses that need to be averted within the next decade or so', to quote that Messenger for the Powers himself. So, as a Champion for the Powers That Be – and one who understands vampires in a way no other person can – could that centuries-old Irishmanbe considered a potential ally, do you think?"

"A former creature of the night? And one who doubtless still possesses at least some instincts of the undead, despite being restored to human form? I hardly think so," Quentin said dismissively.

Giles finished off his tea, and put the cup back in the saucer. "You may well be correct in that, err, assessment." He stood up. "However, I can't help but be reminded of the situation with Wyndam-Pryce; how an incorrect assumption led to him losing complete trust in yourself and the High Council. Something to be kept in mind when deciding what to do about that former vampire, perhaps?"

"What are you insinuating, Rupert?" Quentin scowled.

"Nothing at all, Quentin. Well, no, that's not quite true – after all, the Powers That Be o-obviously have some sort of plan in mind for the former Scourge of Europe. So when – if – Miss Summers finally eliminates all of the undead, I can't help wondering whether that would herald an opportunity to try to get rid of humanity's other enemies, if we had... well, the right sort of allies?" Giles asked, somewhat rhetorically. He then excused himself, saying that he needed to return to his undercover job in London.

Quentin let him go; the younger Watcher had given him a great deal to think about.

Especially with regards to Roger's son, and what might have to be done to repair the damage there.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **March 4** **th** **, 1997**

Cordelia hurried up the steps towards the main building of the school. She had a lot on her mind at the moment, most of which revolved around Xander. Exactly what kind of relationship they had nowadays, amongst other things.

They had been officially together now for over two weeks, and even though in some ways it had been the happiest days of her life – in other ways, it hadn't. Despite how the Dorkhead had finally succumbed to his feelings for her – and about freaking time, in her view! – the problems regarding their relationship hadn't been resolved.

Everything Xander had mentioned before she'd kicked him where it really hurt that day, it was all just as true now as it had been then. That was why they were reduced to fooling around in the school's utility closets, instead of letting the whole world know that they were together.

{ _Guess the Dumbass was actually right for once; and it's getting harder to keep him distracted whenever he says 'we need to talk' during our make-out sessions,_ } Cordelia thought, heading for the main entrance of the school. { _Augghh! What am I going to do? If I don't figure something out soon, he's going to dump me all over again. He_ _ **will**_ _, I just know it!_ }

"Cordelia!" Aura's voice distracted her from her inner musings, and she turned to see her followers heading towards her. Instantly, Cordelia got a bad feeling from their expressions on the other girls' faces –

"How could you?!" Harmony looked like she was utterly devastated as she asked that question.

"How could I what?" she asked, staring at the others in confusion. "I mean, what's this about?"

"Oh, don't play dumb with us," Gwen actually had the nerve – the _**audacity!**_ – to sneer at her. "You are so busted!"

"What?" Cordelia didn't have to fake her bewilderment as she asked that, looking from one Cordette to the other.

"Contrary to what you might think, Cordelia, we're not stupid! We've, like, noticed that you've done a complete one-eighty on your previous 'tude, and been all happy and stuff since that laryngitis epidemic ended," Joyce replied haughtily.

"And yesterday, I finally learned why," Aura added, staring at her. "I saw you come out of that utility closet, Cordelia. And I saw who came out a few seconds later."

"You've been _**spying**_ on me?!" she hissed angrily, and the other girls instinctively recoiled. But only for a moment, before they straightened up again. This, to Cordelia's mind, was kinda worrisome –

"Oh, what does it matter how we found out? The point is, you've totally been macking on Xander Harris, loser extraordinaire!" Harmony screeched out. "I honestly couldn't believe it – but it's all true, isn't it?"

{ _Never show fear. Never show weakness._ } Those lessons had been drilled into her by her mother since she was eight years old, and right now, Cordelia was really glad for it. So she straightened up and said, "Yes, it's true. What of it?"

The Cordettes all gasped, as if she'd just said something utterly blasphemous. Then Gwen said viciously, "What of it? Are you, like, high on crack or something?!"

"Cordelia, you should be dating someone from the football team, or the basketball team – or at the very least someone socially acceptable, like, like Owen Thurman! Not that, that –" Harmony spluttered.

"Not what, Harm? Not the guy who's saved my life twice, so far this year?" Cordelia cut in smoothly. "Maybe even three times, if you count what happened with Miss French? Or whoever she really was, anyway. That fake teacher might have gone after _**me**_ if Xander hadn't distracted her, you know – and I still think she was the one who murdered Dr. Gregory, despite the Sunnydale PD not considering her a viable suspect."

"Not the point," Gwen replied uneasily, as the other three cheerleaders all looked aside uncomfortably. Cordelia could tell they were trying to repress about that, and not succeeding very well. { _No, focus, damn it!_ }

"Then what _**is**_ the point, Gwen?" she demanded in no uncertain terms.

"You need to make a choice, Cordelia. Between that-that monkey boy, and popularity," Harmony said forcefully, somewhat to her surprise. "'Cause seriously, you can't have them both!"

"Yeah! I mean, getting involved with a retard like Harris? That's, like, totally crossing a line," Gwen nodded in agreement.

"She's right. I don't care what he's done in the past; it still doesn't make that horse's ass into date-worthy material," Joy shook her head. "I mean, God, what's next? Are you two gonna start wearing cute little matching outfits or something? 'Cause if you are, I'm going to vomit!"

"I hope for your sake you come to your senses soon, Cordelia," Harmony added, shaking her head. "Otherwise, we can't be friends with you anymore."

"Was that a threat, you good-for-nothing pea-brain?" she growled, which made the Cordettes take a step back. "Did you just threaten Cordelia Chase, in _**public?!**_ "

She took a step forward, and wasn't exactly surprised when practically all her followers – former? – turned around and practically bolted. Cordelia was somewhat annoyed that Aura held her ground and stuck around, though. "Why the hell are you still here?!"

"We've been friends since we were six years old, Cordelia. I don't want to lose that friendship if I can possibly avoid it," the brown-skinned girl replied straightforwardly.

"Well, maybe you shoulda thought of that _**before**_ you opened your big fat mouth about Xander and me, to everyone else!" she snarled.

"Yeah, maybe," Aura admitted. "But put yourself in _**my**_ shoes for a second, will you? I mean – you, and the guy you've constantly been fighting with since third grade? I'm sorry, but no way I could keep _**that**_ a secret for long! C'mon, be honest – if you had spotted me doing something like that with, I dunno, Jesse McNally? Would you have been able to keep it to yourself, and not told everyone else?"

"If I'd thought you were in love with him? Maybe," Cordelia replied icily, and she silently cursed as she saw Aura's eyes go wide. { _Crap!_ } "And so help me, Aura, if you ever tell anyone I just said that –"

"Oh my God, you're in love with Xander Harris," the other girl interrupted her threat. "Wow! I mean, does he know? Have you told him?"

"Why should I tell you? So that you can instantly blab to everyone else?" Cordelia snapped, before wincing at the hurt look on Aura's face. "All right, maybe that was out of line. Kinda sorta. But dammit, Aura, you've put me in a really difficult position! 'Cause as soon as he hears about this, the Doofus is gonna want to end it between us all over again!"

"Again?!" Aura echoed in amazement. "Wait, you've broken up with him before? Just how long have you and Harris been together?"

"That's – kinda complicated," Cordelia admitted, thinking back on everything that had happened since last summer. Then her face hardened. "And again, that's not something I want to discuss with you. 'Cause you screwed up, and right now, the trust is gone. I don't know if I can ever trust you again, understand?"

Aura looked upset as she nodded and then left without another word. Cursing all over again, Cordelia left as well, not looking forward to the upcoming conversation with her not-so-secret boyfriend.

* * *

 **Sunnydale Zoo, Sunnydale**

 **Later that day**

Xander would normally be happy as a clam at high tide right now. Because, visiting the local zoo instead of being in class? Complete no-brainer! But unfortunately, he wasn't happy. Not after that conversation with Cordelia earlier today.

Damn it, he'd thought they were being careful, careful enough not to be discovered – but obviously not. And now, his girlfr- Cordelia had to make a choice between him and popularity. Wasn't too hard to figure out which one she'd choose, either. He just hoped she wouldn't try to soften the blow with any sort of 'It's not you, it's me' speech afterwards. Because that would _**suck**_ **.**

{ _It's your own fault, ya know,_ } Snarky  & Annoying voice spoke up from the back of his head, as he trailed after Willow and Jesse once the zebras had finished mating. { _You_ _ **knew**_ _this was coming, and you let yourself fall under her spell anyway. It's kinda pathetic how little willpower you actually possess, you know that?_ }

Oh, gimme a break. It's Cordelia freaking Chase – and she doesn't take 'no' for an answer on anything!

{ _Yeah, sure, but if you'd actually thought with your_ _ **other**_ _head every time you and her snuck into one of those broom closets? You'd have been able to end it before Cordelia's friends found out._ }

Really? You think so? Totally not that easy. Otherwise we'd have never gone past second base and started heading for third, so damn quickly!

{ _Well, there is that,_ } Snarky  & Annoying voice admitted grudgingly. { _But still, all this goes to prove that if the Guardians of Oa actually existed, no way they'd ever offer_ _ **you**_ _the chance to become a Green Lantern. Hal Jordan, you are not!_ }

Never claimed to be. Now shut up, already!

{ _In fact, Cordelia would make a_ _ **much**_ _better Green Lantern than you. On account of one thing that girl has got is willpower, in spades! Just imagine her all dressed up in green and white and black spandex, wearing a mask and that GL power ring on her finger. Not to mention reciting her version of the Oath._ }

Her version of the Oath? What does that mean?

{ _"In brightest day, in blackest night, no fashion victim shall escape my sight. Let those who worship evil-lite, beware my power – the Fashion Police's might!" She'd kick ass, all over Sunnydale!_ }

Xander sighed, acknowledging that to be true but forcing himself to concentrate on other things – like Tor, Kyle, Heidi and Rhonda closing in on him. Briefly looking around, he could see that Jesse and Willow were nowhere in sight – damn, they must have wandered off somewhere while he was busy with his own thoughts! { _Stupid, stupid, stupid..._ }

"What do you guys want?" he asked simply.

"We're gonna check out the Hyena House," Tor replied.

"And you're coming with us," Kyle smirked.

"Thought that was off-limits," Xander nodded towards the yellow barricade tape.

"And therein, Xan, lies the fun," Heidi snickered.

"Get moving, Harris," Rhonda came forward, and he could tell she was about to shove him towards the prohibited area – when a hand grabbed hold of her wrist, making her yelp in pain.

"Let me explain the lore here, okay? Xander's a hopeless geek, but he's _**my**_ geek. The only one who gets to terrorize him is _**me!**_ Is that clear, Kelly?" Cordelia's harsh voice barked out, before she shoved Rhonda at Kyle. "Is that clear to all of you Cro-Magnon brains?!"

"Heh. Finally taking your relationship with your boyfriend out of the closet?" Heidi smiled nastily.

"What's it to you? I mean, why the interest? Is Tor not man enough for you anymore?" Cordelia demanded acidly, and Xander failed to hide an instinctive wince. If there was one thing that would get any girl all riled up, it was casting aspersions on her boyfriend –

"Oh, I'm plenty man enough, I'm thinking," Tor replied easily, before a narrow-eyed Heidi could reply. "But what I'm wondering is, are you woman enough to join us on our little adventure?"

"What the hell is he talking about, Xander?" Cordy demanded, looking at him expectantly.

He shrugged. "Hyena House expedition. These guys just invited me along as – what? Your lookout, or sentry, or something?"

"Not exactly what I had in mind," Kyle muttered.

"Fine. Let's do whatever stupidity you useless idiots came up with," Cordelia said contemptuously, and from the looks on their faces, Xander could tell that her scorn had hit home. "You four go first. And you, Dweeb, get over here beside me!"

"Don't have to do this," he whispered to her, as Tor, Heidi, Rhonda and Kyle ducked under the tape.

"Nobody threatens my guy," she murmured back, before they followed the quartet. "Wait here at the entrance, I'll be back soon."

"If they try anything, don't hesitate to yell for me," he told Cordelia fervently, their eyes meeting briefly. "It's kinda my thing to put my life on the line for you nowadays, ya know?"

The brunette smiled; and that smile was twice as bright as the sun setting over the nearby ocean, and twice as beautiful. "Yeah, I noticed. Just hang tight, Dork, like I said. This shouldn't take long."

The brief kiss that followed made Xander wonder about his previous belief that Cordelia would choose popularity over him. A few minutes later, though, he heard loud laughter inside the Hyena House, before Queen C and the four bullies reappeared and swept past him – without even acknowledging his existence.

{ _Shoulda known,_ } Xander grumbled, as he followed the other five back into the regular zoo grounds. { _She was just messing with me all along. Women! Who the heck can ever figure them out?_ }

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** And so, finally, the first part of "The Pack" begins! Thanks for reading and hopefully reviewing the chapter, as always I'm looking forward to hearing what you thought of it. Oh, and as for the previous chapter, Guest - you brought up an excellent point in your review about why Willow didn't use the telepathy power she's developed in this story! The simple answer is because I had a total brain malfunction, and never even thought of that - mea culpa, basically. Still, because Willow can transmit but not yet receive, just imagine it wasn't all that useful under the circumstances and she ceased attempting to communicate that way after doing it once off-screen.


	24. More Deadly Than The Male

**Chapter Twenty-four: More Deadly Than The Male**

 **Sunnydale Zoo, Sunnydale**

 **March 4** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Dr. Weirick was kinda pissed off. No, scratch the kinda – he _**was**_ pissed off, pure and simple.

The hyenas which he'd finally managed to get imported from Africa – that very rare species of Crocuta crocuta brevirostris – had been in Sunnydale for over a week now. He had managed to prevent anyone else from gaining access to the animals so far by issuing a quarantine order and isolating them in their own enclosure, but he didn't know how much longer he could keep stalling the zoo's vets and other personnel from examining the new exhibits. { _That darn trans-possession spell, why can't I get it to work? What exactly am I doing wrong?_ }

He wasn't exactly happy, therefore, when he spied three teenagers standing close to the Hyena House entrance. "Hey! What are you kids doing there?"

"Uh, nothing! Nothing at all," the redhead immediately shook her head, even though she had a classic 'hand in the cookie jar' look on her face.

"Yeah! I mean, it's not like we were planning to go in there," the girl with brownish-blonde hair gestured towards the hyena enclosure.

"'Cause that'd be wrong," the dark-haired boy said hurriedly, nodding.

Weirick stared at them all for a few moments, before deciding to accept their statements. "Well, that's good. I mean, anyone who goes in there right now is in a world of trouble."

"How come?" the redhead asked. "Oh! Where are my manners? Sorry, I'm Willow Rosenberg."

"Buffy Summers," the other girl added.

"Jesse McNally," the boy introduced himself.

"I'm Dr. Weirick, one of the zookeepers here," he said, calming down. "And to answer your question, Miss Rosenberg, the Hyena House is under quarantine. Until the new animals are cleared for viewing by the public, no one is allowed in there except me."

"I heard in Biology class that hyenas, they prey on the weak – is that true?" the McNally boy asked, looking interested.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, they do," Weirick replied, glad to have an interested audience and his mood improving significantly. "The Masai tribesmen I've spoken with told me that hyenas are capable of understanding human speech, actually. That they follow humans around by day, learning their names. At night, when the campfire dies, the hyena pack calls out to a person. Once they separate him from the rest of the herd, they..." He snapped his fingers for emphasis, "...quickly devour him."

"Gross," the Summers girl replied, scrunching her nose slightly.

Weirick shrugged slightly. "Predatory animals aren't sentimental; they hunt, kill and devour their prey in order to survive. Lord Tennyson said it best in his poem: ' _Who trusted God was love indeed; And love Creation's final law; Tho' Nature, red in tooth and claw; With ravine, shriek'd against his creed._ ' That's simply the natural world for you in a nutshell, Miss Summers."

"Right. Oh! We have to get going," Miss Rosenberg said hurriedly, nudging both her friends. "Thank you, Dr. Weirick, but we really gotta motor or we'll miss the bus back to school. Bye!"

"Goodbye," Weirick nodded to her, and then to the other two students as they, too, said their farewells. Quickly putting the brief encounter out of his mind, he started concentrating on his problem again as he entered the Hyena House.

Weirick stared down at the sacred circle he'd painted on the floor, and then at the growling hyenas in the nearby that could be seen within the inner enclosure, close to some rocks. Frowning, he thought to himself again, { _What exactly am I doing wrong?_ }

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **March 5** **th** **, 1997**

Cordelia felt – weird.

Ever since yesterday's field trip to the zoo, it was like... well, she was seeing the world differently, somehow. She felt different, too. Restless. Hyperactive. More – alive, for want of a better word.

Her nose had definitely become more sensitive, as well. She could smell things she was certain she couldn't smell before. She felt stronger, too. And not just physically, but mentally as well. Almost like she could make people get down on their knees and prostrate themselves before her, merely by the force of her will –

"Cordelia!" Harmony's annoying whine impacted upon her eardrums more intensely than she'd anticipated. { _That's another one for the list, yeah, improved hearing as well. Weird but cool!_ }

"What do you want, Harmony?" she snapped after turning around, and seeing the blonde and the rest of her followers – no, her unworthy lackeys – standing there.

"Uh – I think you already know the answer to that, don't you?" Harmony replied, looking somewhat confused.

"Yeah. So what have you decided? Have you, like, come to your senses about that useless retard, Harris?" Gwen demanded, and far too sneeringly for her liking.

Unable to help it, she laughed. It was kinda weird, actually – it wasn't her usual laugh, the one she'd practised since puberty had kicked in and she'd discovered boys. No, this was more of a – a cackle. It obviously freaked her lackeys out a little, because all those girls took a step back... with a concerned look appearing on their faces.

"Listen up, Gwen. First off, Xander isn't a retard. Sure, he's a complete dork and a total klutz, but one thing he's not – and that's intellectually challenged. And he's not useless, either – he has a job. Namely, keeping me safe. He's the omega to my alpha, if you wanna get technical about it," Cordelia said firmly, and then she sighed at the uncomprehending looks the lackeys were sending her. "Okay, lemme dumb it down for you people. I plan on doing whatever I want from now on, which includes dating whoever the hell I wanna date. No matter how lame he is! So the question you should be asking yourselves is – what do I need your approval for?"

Most of the girls immediately stared at her in open-mouthed shock. But she noticed how Aura was examining her carefully, an unsurprised expression on her face. Well, duh, after yesterday's private conversation. Then Aura said, "You sure that's what you want, Cordelia? 'Cause you probably already know this, but choosing Xander Harris instead of popularity – there's no coming back from that. Burning all your bridges behind you type of dealie, you're pretty much committed to the guy from now on. So, is he really worth it?"

"Yeah, he is," Cordelia answered without hesitation. "Kinda weird, Aura, but I've got me no doubts about that."

"I DON'T BELIEVE THIS!" Harmony shouted, now looking angry and disgusted. Cordelia was reminded of the people she had once seen on _Sixty Minutes_ , disillusioned losers who had lost all faith in their religious leadership and now wanted to lash out against them. "How is it even _**conceivable**_ you're choosing that useless dirt-bag over us? What kind of insane hold does that, that over-evolved orang-utan have on you in order to – urrkkk!" the blonde started to choke, as Cordelia grabbed her by the neck.

"Not one more word, Harm. Consider this your one and only warning," she hissed angrily, before shoving Harmony away. To her surprise, her former second-in-command stumbled back quite a distance before regaining her footing – which was odd, she hadn't pushed that hard. Had she? { _Hrmm. Guess I need to monitor my strength more carefully, too, 'til I get a better handle on all this._ }

Cordelia then looked around at the popular girls – they weren't her Cordettes any longer; that description was now totally obsolete – and she glared at them menacingly. "The same goes for the rest of you. One wrong move, and not only will I get my own revenge, I'll let Rosenberg off her leash to do her worst to every single one of you. Kinda like she did to Gwen and Harmony, way back when. So, does anyone here feel like pushing their luck any further than they already have?"

There was a series of headshakes as the ex-lackeys quickly turned and fled. Only Aura was brave enough to stay behind and lock eyes with her for a few seconds, before that girl left after a short nod. Well, she'd always had guts, Cordelia knew that – it was one of the reasons Aura had been her unofficial third-in-command. { _Damn, it's too bad I can't keep her. But Aura's made her choice, just like the rest of them – so, she's not my problem anymore._ }

"Impressive," Heidi's voice distracted her from her mental musings. Cordelia turned around to see her and Rhonda standing there. "You really can be one stone-cold bitch when you want to be."

"Yeah, and don't you forget it," she semi-growled, pleased when both girls flinched at her tone. She was about to say 'what are you two doing here?' when Cordelia realized that the question was completely unnecessary – both of them somehow _**belonged**_ in her presence. Them and their men. "Tor and Kyle?"

"Keeping an eye on Harris," Rhonda supplied, her eyes lowered and her tone oddly meek. "For some reason, it seemed – appropriate."

"It is," Cordelia said unthinkingly, before looking at the other female teens critically. "Meet me in the parking lot after school, so that I can take you both to the mall. You both need more fashionable haircuts, and a wardrobe upgrade – because your current one isn't anywhere _**near**_ my standards!"

Again, both female teens nodded submissively. It felt so good, so natural that Cordelia simply never questioned how _**strange**_ it actually was –

* * *

 **Spike's warehouse lair, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

Spike was so busy planning how to cement his rule as the new master of the Hellmouth (by killing the Slayer and other sundry activities), discussing his plans with the relatively few minions that actually had a brain, that he simply never noticed the little boy wander into the warehouse. He did notice, though, when Drusilla ceased humming to herself and headed over towards the door. And as soon as he noticed the pre-pubescent brat, he knew that something wasn't right –

{ _Oh, cripes! Some stupid git actually turned someone that young? What's this bloody world coming to?_ } Spike thought to himself in exasperation. In his experience, child vampires were simply too annoying to deal with. Besides, who'd want to be stuck in an eight year old body for the rest of eternity?

"Right, then, who are you?" Spike demanded, staring at the sprog.

"I'm Collin," the younger vampire replied, looking around. "I'm –"

"Don't care," Spike interrupted rudely. "You're new, I can tell. Still got dirt behind yer ears – or ya would 'ave, if anybody had bothered ta bury you properly. So ya got one chance, Collin – git! Now! Or else it ain't gonna end well fer you, I can promise ya that!"

"Shhh, Spike-y," Dru crooned, as she came up alongside him. "This one has power. I could feel it while he was still outside."

"That right, luv? So, what sorta power are we talkin' about?" he asked, now feeling intrigued. "Something ta help us kill that bleedin' Slayer?"

"Nooooo..." Dru said musingly. "Not anymore." She then focused on Collin and said, "Do you like daisies? Hrmm? I plant them, but they always die. Everything I put in the ground withers and dies."

"I don't understand," Collin said, looking confused.

Without any warning, Drusilla screamed, "THE ANOINTED ONE!" before she moved with super-speed and staked Collin directly in the heart. The kid immediately burst into dust, with the typical screaming hiss of an escaping demon. The ashy remains then rained gently down onto the floor of the warehouse.

{ _Anointed One? Wot?_ } "Well, not that I'm complaining, luv," Spike said thoughtfully, steering his beloved away and glaring at the minions to make them get back to work. "But what was all that about, exactly?"

"I'm a princess, and no pretenders to the throne are welcome 'ere," Dru replied, twirling around and starting to laugh. "Oh, oh! It's started, it has! The naughty girl's claws and teeth will soon be allllll red!"

Shaking his head, Spike decided that he simply didn't want to know. "Oy!" he then shouted to a particularly dense-looking fledgling. "Turn them bloody TV monitors on again, will you? I wanna have another look at the Slayer's fighting style..."

* * *

 **4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

"CORDELIA! Where are you?!"

Cordy merely raised her eyebrows and put down the book she'd been reading in the mansion's library. Something she hadn't looked at in years – the second Jungle Book. It had been pretty nostalgic reading, and interesting too. Especially that part where the Free People – the wolves – killed the dhole. She then called out, "I'm in here, Mother! Is something wrong?"

Her mother came bursting onto the room, with Daddy not far behind her. Heh – odd how she had never thought of Julia Chase as 'mom.' A long time ago, granted, the blonde woman who'd birthed her had been 'mommy' – but that had been before Cordelia had started to grow up, and understand what it meant to be a Chase.

To be her mother's daughter.

"What have you done, Cordelia?!" Mother demanded angrily.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know what you're talking about. Can you be a little more specific?" Cordelia asked calmly, determined not to lose her cool. She was feeling too _**stoked**_ right now for someone to start raining on her parade like this!

"I spoke with Melody Kendall on the phone just now," her mother almost hissed in fury. "She said that you _**assaulted**_ her daughter earlier today! Well? What do you have to say for yourself, young lady?"

Cordelia straightened up to her full height – all five foot and seven and a half inches of it – and stared her mother right in the eye. "Since when does a Chase start whining this way? Like some kinda sissy?"

Daddy made a choking noise, and Mother's eyes went wide with disbelief. "WHAT did you just say?!" she semi-screeched.

"You let yourself be intimidated by Harmony's mom? Really, Mother? I thought you were stronger than that," Cordelia replied, her eyes narrowing. "Besides. Aren't you supposed to be on _**my**_ side? At least get my version of events, before deciding that I did something wrong?"

"All right, then, sweetheart. You want to tell us what happened today, now's your chance," Daddy spoke up, after exchanging a look with his wife.

With a slight shrug, Cordelia did so. She held nothing back, starting with yesterday's confrontation with her former friends and ending with today's conversation in the school quad. "And that's where we are right now."

"Of all the _**bone-headed**_ – Cordelia, what were you THINKING? Were you even thinking at all?! Mother shouted immediately. "Are you seriously telling me that you –"

"What? That I willingly dumped all of my popular friends in order to be with the guy I've fallen in love with? Yes, Mother," she interrupted sharply. "Because I'm proud of the fact that Xander's my boyfriend, no matter how much of a lamer he is – and because I take crap from no one. Least of all, Harmony and the sheep! Don't you get it? I do what I want to get what I want, because I'm Cordelia Chase!"

"Oh dear God, this is a nightmare," Mother groaned, before turning to Daddy. "David, _**do**_ something!"

"Fine. Cordelia, I want to know – does Alexander feel the same way about you that you do about him?" her father asked, causing Mother to stare at him with wide-eyed amazement.

"He tries not to, but yeah," Cordelia nodded. "And it'll take me a while to drive the fact that I actually chose him through Xander's thick skull, but I'm sure I'll succeed eventually."

"NO! You're not going to – Cordelia, I _**forbid**_ you to ever go near that Harris boy again!" Mother screamed, looking angry and – afraid? Yeah, sorta, which was weird.

Well, comparatively speaking. Ever since last summer, 'weird' in Sunnydale had taken on a whole new level of meaning for her.

Cordelia then noticed her mother was still ranting, "Bad enough you've fallen in love with him, the way that psychic told me would happen when you were a child, but I –"

" _ **What**_ did you just say?" her father interrupted, an icy-cold look appearing on his face as he stared at Mother accusingly.

"No, Daddy, wait up. I want to hear this," Cordelia said, focusing on her mother with laser-strength intensity. "What exactly did this person tell you would happen, Mother? After I fell in love with Xander, I mean?"

"That he would totally break your heart, somehow. And that you would end up doing something to bring about world peace, a few years afterwards. That seer didn't go into details, before he started screaming and ran away from me; he just said that you would end up in Los Angeles, working for some private detective –"

"And die before I was twenty-five years old?" Cordelia interrupted, totally ignoring the look on her father's face.

"How did you know-?" Mother stared at her in open-mouthed amazement.

"What are you two talking about?!" her father interjected, now looking furious.

"It's probably safer for you if you don't know, Daddy," she told him, arching one eyebrow slightly. "After all – that's what you told _**me**_ when I demanded to know what sort of illegal crap you've gotten up to, remember?"

"What? David, what's she talking about?!" Mother suddenly turned around to glare at her husband.

"Uh, nothing important, dear," he tried to stonewall. Sh'yeah, right! "Julia –"

"David Randall Chase, if you don't want to sleep on the couch for the next _**year**_ , you 'fess up right now!" Mother snarled at him. Wow. Impressive. She was reminded of Lahini – one of the Jungle Book's fierce-eyed she-wolves. Lots more dangerous than the male, 'natch.

"Uh..." Her father looked trapped. Typical guy reaction – just like what she'd seen at school, geez; men obviously didn't change much, afterwards!

"Whatever it is – it's something bad enough that Daddy was willing to bribe Xander to remain quiet about it, actually," she said, as both her parents turned to look at her. "So you may as well spill, father mine. Or maybe I'll bring my boyfriend around to the house, and get him to do his magic trick on you again. Only this time, with witnesses – so it won't matter if the Dumbass can't remember what he tells you afterwards!"

"Cordelia, what on earth does that mean?" Mother was looking at her in bewilderment, while Daddy was looking terrified. Good; the odds were he wasn't going to call her bluff, if Xander was right about how his ability worked –

"Well, Daddy?" Cordelia said expectantly, ignoring her mother's question.

Her father exhaled, and then looking like a disgraced televangelist, he confessed. Everything.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN, you're a tax cheat?!" Mother yelled, as Cordelia stared at him in shock.

"Well, like I said – the IRS hasn't been getting its cut from the company's profits. For the last decade or so," Daddy admitted painfully.

"Unbelievable!" Cordelia shouted.

"David, how could you be so _**stupid?!**_ " Mother wanted to know. "I thought we discussed this; dammit, I _**told**_ you what a lousy idea pulling that sort of tax dodge was!"

"Okay, both of you, just calm down," Daddy tried to smooth ruffled feathers. "I mean, no one else knows apart from my accountant – so I promise you, there's nothing to worry about!"

"Really? Is that what you think? Because you're gonna get caught eventually, _**Dad**_ ," Cordelia told him, not bothering to hide her disgust. "Not long before I finish high school, is my best guess. Which explains why I might have ended up Poverty Girl and died in Los Angeles, less than ten years from now!"

"What?!" her parents exclaimed in unison.

"Never mind. Not important – at least, not at the moment!" Cordelia barked at them. She paused, and took a big sniff of both of them. Huh, that was extra-weird – she could actually _**smell**_ their fear! No, forget that for now! "Contingency plans. We need them. I mean, I've already set up a hundred thousand dollar bank account in the Cayman Islands under a fake name, but that's not –"

"You did what? But that's not possible! Cordelia, you don't have anywhere near that kind of money, at least not yet!" her father interrupted, looking puzzled.

"Well, Daddy, funny thing – but there's always someone willing to help you, if they think there's something in it for them. In this case, all I had to do was get two of my classmates named Dave and Fritz to teach me how to hack into my trust fund, in exchange for a pity date at Bucky's Fondue Hut. Cheap price to pay! Well, that was back when Xander and I weren't together, of course," Cordelia shrugged.

Then she glared at her mother after the woman opened her mouth. "And not _**one**_ word about my boyfriend from you, Mother Dearest! Because that psychic guy didn't tell you everything, capisce? Not that I necessarily believe in that sort of thing, of course, but according to my own source? Apparently, I either end up Xander's wife and the mother of his children, or I end up dead before I reach my mid-twenties! So you tell me, which one would you prefer?!"

"What?" Daddy now looked utterly gobsmacked.

"I'm not going to even dignify that with a response, of course! But Cordelia – who's your source, exactly?" Mother asked, ignoring her husband completely.

She shrugged. "Dead woman by the name of Madam Devora."

"Madam Devora? No, wait, hang on, I know that name from somewhere! Madam... uh, madam... oh, no, you mean that carnie fortune teller Alexander mentioned to me in the hospital last summer?!" her father demanded, now looking equal parts astonished and mad as he finally recalled that bit of trivia.

"Well, duh! Who do you _**think**_ gave my boyfriend the power to be able to tell you that cheaters never prosper, Daddy? Tax cheats, least of all?" Cordelia shot back, feeling oddly pleased at the uncomfortable look that appeared on her father's face. She then took another big sniff, no longer finding it quite so odd that she could literally smell Daddy's shame –

"Cordelia, why in heaven's name are you constantly sniffing that way? That's beginning to border on unacceptable behavior, you know," her mother frowned.

"I'm not sure, Mother. It's weird, but my sense of smell has gotten a lot better recently," she replied, before dismissing that. "Anyway, I believe we were discussing contingency plans for when Daddy eventually gets busted by the IRS?"

Cordelia was pleased to see her parents finally start to treat her like an adult, as the three of them settled down into the library's comfortable chairs and began to talk. She was also pleased that Lupe wasn't around tonight to overhear this particular family conversation.

She liked and trusted their Latino maid, of course, but there was no point in taking any chances with the hired help!

* * *

 **Blessed Memories Cemetery, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

Twisting and turning, Buffy kicked the soulless vampire in the face with a high roundhouse kick, forcing him to step backward in order to keep his balance.

It had been kind of a slow night tonight, actually, until this guy had shown up. Which was kinda odd – ever since the Gentlemen had come to town, patrol most nights had been pretty full-on. Buffy had the funny feeling that it was building towards something –

Like the grand finale scheduled to take place in May, maybe.

The vampire did a jumping half-twisting crescent kick, which forced Buffy to focus as she ducked. He tried to follow up with two punches, but she neatly blocked them both. After the third attempted punch, she grabbed hold of the vampire's arm and hit him in the face with a high front snap kick. Letting go of the bloodsucker's arm, Buffy hit him squarely in the midsection and followed up with a swinging punch to the face, sending the soulless demon to the ground.

"We haven't been properly introduced," she quipped, before pulling out her stake. "I'm Buffy, and you're history!"

She plunged the stake into the vampire as he started to get up – he fell and then burst into ashes, the inner skeleton visible for one brief moment as the blood demon was sent screaming back to Hell. "So, in your opinion, how'd I do?"

"Honestly?" Wes replied, popping out from behind a nearby crypt. "I mean – really, truly, honestly? Because I've, uh, noticed that you don't take criticism all that well, you know."

Buffy fought down an instinctive urge to yell at the Watcher that she wasn't that bad, and that she didn't get all defensive and stuff if someone pointed out she'd made mistakes. She settled for saying, "Well, since this is the first time you've come out on patrol with me and actually encountered a vampire, what the hell! Hit me."

"Well, your technique was certainly good enough, but your priorities... uh, chatting with something you're trying to kill? Not exactly efficient use of your time. Better to simply finish it quickly and move on, keep your eyes and ears open for any new threats that may show up. Situational awareness, I think you lot call it over here. Constant vigilance, according to the Slayer Handbook," Wes shrugged slightly.

Buffy scowled. "One of these days, Wes? You're gonna have to show me that Slayer handbook you always keep quoting!"

Wesley shook his head. "It wouldn't serve any useful purpose, Miss Summers. I, ah, I've actually come to the conclusion that the Slayer Handbook is of utterly no use in your case."

"What? Why? What's wrong with my case? Seriously, Wes, what does that even mean?" Buffy felt insulted.

"Buffy!" a young man's voice called out, and Wesley instantly ducked down behind a nearby tombstone. The Slayer could hear him hissing at her, "I'm not here, I'm not here!"

Ignoring the British guy completely, Buffy just stared as Jesse, Willow and Owen Thurman showed up. "Owen? What are you doing here?"

"Looking for you!" the guy exclaimed, looking around. "So, uh, what are you doing in a cemetery at night?"

{ _Uh-oh! Think of something! Quick! Lie!_ } "I, um, it's sort of a dare. Everyone always keeps saying 'don't go out alone at night' and I just, well, I kinda –"

"Right, right, I get it," Owen interrupted. "You're a danger junkie. And after I nearly got killed last week, I finally realized – so am I!" he proclaimed excitedly.

Buffy immediately felt her good mood plummet. "What?"

"Uh, I sorta ran into Larry Blaisdell when he was in bad mood. Musta said something to get him really mad, even if I have no idea what. And just after a teacher showed up as he was about to pummel me, I realized – I like danger! The thrill, the rush – it's intoxicating! Like tomorrow night, whaddya say we walk downtown at three in the morning, a-and pick a fight in a bar?" Owen offered sincerely.

"Which one? The Fish Tank?" Jesse asked cluelessly, before he yelped as Willow slapped him on the arm. "Ow!"

Buffy shook her head. "Uh, Owen... sorry, but I'm not free tomorrow night. Homework."

Thurman shrugged slightly. "Well, I-I'm free any night this week. When would be a good time for you?"

"Uh... I'm not... I'm sorry. But never."

"What?"

"Please – don't take this personally, Owen. I mean, it's, it's not you; it's me," Buffy said, feeling pathetic for having to resort to that tired old cliché. Despite how true it was in this case. Two, maybe three days in her world with that sort of attitude would mean Owen getting killed, or worse.

She could see him suddenly understand the situation, it was written all over the guy's face. "Right. It's you. I, I get it. You just wanna be friends."

"That'd be nice," Buffy nodded, feeling gutted at having to let such a cute albeit reckless boy be cut loose like this.

"Okay. Great," Owen nodded in disappointment, as he turned around and began to walk off.

"We'll make sure he gets home safe," Jesse promised her, starting to follow after Owen.

"Darn tootin'!" Willow nodded, before the redhead quickly caught up with the other two.

Buffy watched them go, her heart churning. Despite her vow all those months ago to let nothing stand in the way of getting her life back, to make sure all the vamps in this world ended up gone before she started dating again – Owen had managed to make her forget that particular promise, for a short while. He'd managed to make her –

"I rather suspect that wasn't at all easy for you," Wesley's voice distracted her. She turned around as he came closer and said, "And having gotten to know you rather well over the past couple of months, Miss Summers, I'd also imagine that right now – you don't want to hear anything related to danger, and sacrifice, and doing the right thing, as it were."

"You're right. I don't," Buffy said dully, trying to keep her voice steady.

"In a nutshell, the Slayer Handbook is all about isolating the Slayer from the rest of human society," Wesley mused, causing her to look at him in surprise. "Keeping her from having to deal with episodes like what I just witnessed."

"Yeah, well. Can't help feeling how that may not be such a bad idea, right now," Buffy replied somewhat forlornly, looking her Watcher directly in the eye.

"You don't mean that," Wes shook his head. "And quite frankly, I doubt you'll ever truly mean that. Because as you've pointed out more than once, you're not the Council's mindless weapon against the undead. You're a human being. A flawed, feeling, and at times overemotional one to be sure, but still. You are what you are, Miss Summers. And I don't doubt you'll keep on being what you are, no matter what I try to do to turn you into a, uh, 'proper' Slayer."

"Wow. For a moment there, Wes, it sounded like you actually care! You sounded just like –" Buffy paused for a moment. "Just like Merrick."

"Given the man's record, I'll take that as a compliment," Wesley nodded. "Now, shall we continue tonight's patrol?"

Sighing, Buffy nodded, grabbed a couple of stakes out of the supply bag and walked off deeper into the graveyard.

She didn't encounter another vampire all night, apart from some crazy guy calling himself Andrew Borba, who couldn't understand why a crucifix hurt and repelled him – before he too ended up nothing but a pile of dust.

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Thing is that I wanted to include the events of "Never Kill A Boy On The First Date" in this story, but there didn't seem to be much point, what with the Master being dust and the Pergamum Codex prophecy revoked. So I decided to compromise by giving the Annoying One a brief appearance and inglorious exit, mention the religious nut only in passing, and find some other way to beak up Owen and Buffy than what we saw on the show. Not sure if I agree with Spike's comment on how Buffy "needs a little monster in her man", but I just couldn't see Slay-gal as an item with Thurman long-term. Granted, the timing doesn't jibe with the BTVS timeline, since the events of "The Pack" have already started; but that battle at the mortuary never took place, so just assume both Collin and Andrew lasted a while longer than they did in canon.

By the way, I just wanted to say that the story's M rating will definitely come into play over the next few chapters - there will be some _very_ adult concepts mentioned and described, which aren't suitable for younger readers. I hope that doesn't stop everyone else from reading and reviewing and/or sending feedback, though! This story has received more reviews than any other fic I've written, for which I thank you all from the bottom of my heart. :)


	25. Pleasures Of The Flesh (And Pains Too!)

**Chapter Twenty-five: Pleasures Of The Flesh (And Pains Too!)**

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **March 6** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

{ _May the good Lord and all His saints protect us!_ } Wesley prayed fearfully. He was wearing various protective gear while his charge was training. Well, using him as a training dummy, anyway. And he was _**sure**_ that the Slayer was also using him as an outlet for which to vent her frustrations –

{ _Nobody ever warned me this might happen!_ } he wailed to himself, as the Chosen One did a roundhouse kick followed by a high punch and a swinging middle punch to his gloved hands. Miss Summers continued, doing a full spin and then delivering a frightfully powerful backhand punch towards his head – which he only just caught. { _Good God, the girl's trying to_ _ **kill**_ _me!_ }

It certainly felt like it, anyway, as Miss Summers did a full spinning jumping high wheel kick, followed by a right middle punch, a high roundhouse kick and a front snap kick. Then she jumped at least four feet into the air and did a twin straddle kick, which – again – he only just managed to block. The Slayer landed back on her feet and had moved in to attack again, when Wesley suddenly jumped back; deciding enough was enough.

"Miss Summers!" The girl stopped short, staring at him inquisitively. "I, uh, I'd say that's enough training for now, actually."

She shrugged, not looking convinced. "Well, that last roundhouse felt kinda sloppy. Are you sure you don't want me to do it again?"

Wes shook his head, "No! No, no, that's fine. You, uh... you'd best run along to your classes. And, um, I'll see you later." Once the Chosen One had gone, he muttered to himself, "Hopefully, after the feeling has returned to my arms!"

He sighed, taking off the gloves and then the rest of the protective gear. { _How did this get so bloody complicated?_ } Wesley asked himself, and not for the first time.

He wasn't here to be the Slayer's friend, or to provide counsel with regards to her love life. Good grief, the Chosen One wasn't supposed to _**have**_ a love life! Not that Miss Summers cared about that – like he'd said to her last night, the Slayer Handbook was of utterly no use in her case. All he could do was examine what Merrick Jamison-Smythe had recorded in his Diary in microscopic detail, and occasionally consult with Robin Wood on how exactly Bernard Crowley had handled his mother.

Well, technically, Wesley knew that there was one other thing he could do. But he didn't want to do that. Because that alternative –

{ _No. The situation's not that bad, at least not yet. Besides, there's too much at stake. To call in a wet works team at this late date, and have Miss Summers removed to England for that sort of reprogramming – no, that simply won't do,_ } Wesley thought to himself determinedly. { _May isn't too far away, and this particular opportunity may never come again. So I'll just have to muddle through with her, somehow!_ }

Just then, the Harris boy – the Oracle – came in, alongside Miss Rosenberg. Mr. McNally was with them, unsurprisingly. Wesley frowned; despite all the time which had passed, he still wasn't happy how that civilian was involved with the, uh, 'Slayage.' { _I really am living in a foreign country, aren't I? Because the natives don't speak English, they speak Californian! Or Americanish, call it what you will._ }

But the situation was what it was, and so it was better to have the powerless member of the group on the inside, given he knew the Slayer's secret identity and the truth regarding the Hellmouth in this town. It certainly made it easier to keep an eye on him, just in case.

"Come on, dude, which is it? You gotta tell me!" Mr. McNally pleaded with the Oracle.

"I dunno. It's kind of a hard choice to make," Mr. Harris said slowly, moving towards the main table of the library. "It's been around for years, and lots of people have an opinion on it, ya know. Could be there's no right or wrong answer."

"Could we please change the topic? I mean, my God, but you two have been talking about this for _**ages**_!" Miss Rosenberg asked pleadingly. Then she turned around to face him. "Wesley, could you please do something?!"

"Er, what? And, um, what exactly are you three talking about?" Wesley asked in confusion, looking at the teenage trio. He suddenly blinked at the ginger's use of his first name – she'd never done that before. Had she?

"C'mon, it's the classic comparison throughout the ages! Really ranks right up there with stuff like, like, which book is better; Catcher In The Rye, or One Flew Over The Cuckoo's Nest!" Mr. McNally said passionately.

Wesley took off his glasses, his interest now engaged. "And which comparison is that, pray tell?"

The Oracle looked at him and said, "Well, we were discussing which is better; Star Trek Next Generation versus the Original Series, and Kirk versus Picard. What's your take on that?"

Any hope that this would be in any way an intellectually stimulating conversation died a mercifully quick and unlamented death. "I see. And I would be interested in this particular topic, why?"

Mr. McNally shrugged, "Unlike us, you were actually around when the original series first appeared on the air, right?"

The urge to grab a sword from the nearby weapons cage was suddenly overwhelming – almost. Wesley fought against it and said the first thing that came into his mind: "The original TV series over the new one, and Picard over Kirk."

"Are you kidding?!" both male teens both howled in disapproval.

"I quite honestly don't care," Wesley muttered, grabbing the gloves off the table and putting them behind the book counter. He noticed Miss Rosenberg roll her eyes again, and this time he willingly joined in.

"C'mon, Wes!" Mr. Harris exclaimed. "How can Captain To Baldly Go ever compare to the accept-no-substitutes, one and only James Tiberius Kirk? The Federation's golden boy of three seasons of TV episodes and God only know how many Expanded Universe original series novels, movies, and comic books and, and..."

"And how can you compare the _Enterprise-D_ to the original _Starship Enterprise_?" Mr. McNally demanded. "You really think all the nifty PADDs and touch consoles and stuff in Next Gen is _**worse**_ than banks of metallic-looking computers and sliding controls and knobs and those idiotic curvy seats for the crew members, in, in the original series?"

"Well, those weren't actually so bad," Mr. Harris interjected musingly. "And hey, those Sixties mini-skirts which the female crew wore –"

"Is there any way I could possibly make the both of you cease talking in my library?" Wesley interrupted, without even looking at the two youths. "Because, quite frankly, the entire topic of conversation makes me want to offer you both to Miss Summers as a practice dummy for her weapons training."

"Ouch. Sounds like she's not handling that whole thing with Owen last night too well?" Miss Rosenberg spoke up, after the male pair shut their mouths with an almost-audible snap.

"As my sorely abused arms will attest, not at all," Wesley came around to the main table again. "To be honest, I can't understand it. Why on earth does Miss Summers even feel the need to engage in that sort of thing?"

"It's called having a life, Wes. You should try it," the McNally boy said disapprovingly. "I mean, how would _**you**_ like it if someone had come up to you when you were a teenager and said, 'you've been chosen to fight and die in order to safeguard the world from all the monsters out there, so you don't have a future other than that. Oh, and don't complain because nobody wants to hear it.' Would you have just gone all, 'Righty-ho, stiff upper lip and all that, goodbye to all my hopes and dreams'?"

"First of all, your attempted mimicry of a British accent was utterly atrocious. And secondly, I concede your point," Wesley said stiffly. "But you – all of you – would do well to consider that if Miss Summers spends her time thinking about which dress to wear to that ridiculous excuse for a nightclub, and what sort of makeup will make a favourable impression on a potential paramour, then people will _**die**_ in this town!"

He then added angrily, "Make no mistake about it; this is no joking matter! Sunnydale is a war zone, by any other name. Toy soldiers are of no use here, or anywhere else for that matter." He looked around at all three children and said, "Given the Hellmouth's presence, and all the vampires and demons drawn to it, I've – somewhat reluctantly – come to the conclusion that your assistance is useful in helping Miss Summers remain alive. But in case you've forgotten, under normal circumstances, I wouldn't tolerate your presence around my Slayer – at all. Any of you! Now, shall we move on?"

"Okay," Miss Rosenberg replied meekly, before looking around at the Oracle. "Xander, you weren't on the school bus this morning. Or at least I couldn't see you anywhere. What's with that?"

"Got a lift to school this morning, Will," Mr. Harris replied, shaking his head.

"With Cordelia? I mean, the rumor mill has been going crazy about you two since yesterday," Mr. McNally replied.

Wesley silently groaned and did his best to ignore the teenage trio as Miss Rosenberg nodded. "I still can't believe it. I mean, seriously, Xander – Cordelia actually picked you, instead of popularity?"

"Thinking it's called love, Will. Cordy finally realized how much she loves the Xandman, and she chose him and happiness over status and reputation," Mr. McNally said, and Wesley heard the note of repressed pain in the lad's voice. He reluctantly looked over towards him as the male teen added, "Remember that conversation we once had, about teen romance movies? The typical cliché plot? I'm thinking this thing between Xander and Cordelia, it's pretty much the movie happening in real life."

"Is that true? I mean, Xander – have you told Cordy that you love her?" Miss Rosenberg asked, looking startled.

"I, uh, no," Mr. Harris semi-stammered. "I mean, we haven't really had a chance to talk yet. Like, I was too terrified to open my mouth during when Cordelia was driving us to school –"

"She really did drive you to school today?" the girl interrupted.

"Yeah, Queen C showed up at my house in her Beemer. Started honking the horn and yelling out, 'Hurry up, loser! We're gonna be late if you don't get your ass in gear!' Pretty sure Cordy musta woken up the entire neighborhood," Mr. Harris admitted, shrugging slightly.

"So? I mean, why exactly haven't you guys talked?" Mr. McNally asked curiously.

"Well, soon as we got here – Tor, Kyle, Heidi and Rhonda showed up in the lot. Like they were waiting for us or something," the Oracle frowned. "I mean, is it just me – or is it _**weird**_ for those guys to suddenly be wearing brand-name clothing, and acting like Cordelia's the Second Coming or something?"

"You're right – that is weird," Miss Rosenberg nodded. "I mean, a bunch of bullies like them? I'd have been willing to swear Cordelia wouldn't tolerate people like that in her orbit! Because they're not part of the in-crowd, no way..."

"Something weird is definitely going on," Mr. McNally said firmly, and then he looked at his male friend more closely. "What about Cordy herself? Is she-?"

"Um, wellllll..." Mr. Harris said uncomfortably. "Kinda. Maybe? Not too sure, either way."

"What does that mean?" Miss Rosenberg demanded at once.

"Well – after we got to school and I nearly upchucked from the way she blew into the lot, Cordy laughed. And it wasn't her usual laugh, it was kinda like – well, kinda hyena-like, if you've ever watched the Discovery Channel. She spent some time sniffing me as well. And uh, she gave me a hickey before walking off with the four members of the Persecution Patrol." The Oracle paused. "At the time? Wasn't exactly complaining about that part, but now – well, if you stop and think about it –"

"Hickey? Where?" Miss Rosenberg peered closer, interrupting while looking closely at the young man's unmarked neck.

Mr. Harris blushed slightly, and turned around as he yanked down his shirt collar. The bite mark could easily be seen on the back of his neck, not far from the base of the spine.

"Xander, you lucky bastard," Mr. McNally mumbled, almost too low to be heard. Almost, but not quite.

Wesley groaned out loud, as the three students stared at him in surprise. { _Here we go..._ }

"What?" Miss Rosenberg asked.

"Don't think I can't tell where this is going! You're planning to drag _**me**_ into all this, aren't you?" he asked hopelessly.

"You're our go-to expert on the weirdness, Wes," Mr. McNally shrugged. "Okay, you're still kinda pompous and arrogant and stuff, but you know your way around the books – and if something _**is**_ wrong with Cordelia, isn't it kinda your job to figure out what's going on? Just in case it might impact on the Buffster's calling?"

Wesley groaned again, before dragging himself over the shelves to start looking up books. Then he looked back at the three teens and said grumpily, "Well? Do I need to ask politely?"

The trio quickly rushed over as he started piling various books into their arms.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **Later that day**

Cordelia was hungry. So was the rest of her – pack. Hrmm, yes, that seemed to be the right word for describing Tor, Kyle, Heidi and Rhonda nowadays. She was the Alpha, and her Pack was hungry. It was up to her to get them fed.

As the Pack walked along, she ignored the looks and hushed whispers from just about all the sophomores and most of the rest of the student body. They were irrelevant. She sniffed the air, and led her people towards one of the tables. She could smell meat –

"You're out of your mind, that's no way to play guitar!" one of the boys at the table said.

"What are you talking about?" the other boy demanded.

"I mean, that's just hunt and peck!" the first boy proclaimed.

"Is not!" the second boy disagreed.

The first boy finally noticed her and the rest of the Pack. "Hey, Cordelia? You've heard Wretched Refuse play, right? What do you think of the guy who plays lead guitar?"

"He plays like he's got thick Polish sausages taped to his fingers or something," she said disdainfully. "Speaking of which?" She snapped her fingers impatiently.

"Oh, you wanna have a bite of my dog? Sure, whatever," the first boy handed over the bun willingly.

Cordelia handed the hot dog over to Tor, and Heidi grabbed the other hot dog from the other boy. Ignoring the idiot's outraged 'hey!', she asked her two Beta's, "Are they good?"

"Too well done," Heidi shook her head.

Both her and her boyfriend tossed the hot dogs back onto the table, as Cordelia gestured and said, "Come on. Looks like we're going off-campus for lunch."

Kyle took a big sniff of the air, and said, "No need. We can do lunch right here, I smell pork on the menu."

Immediately infuriated, Cordelia grabbed hold of him by the ear and twisted viciously. Kyle yelped like the lowly Gamma he was before she growled, "Are you challenging my decisions?"

"Never!" DuFours shook his head submissively. Hrmmm, nice. Always felt good when others acknowledged your superiority, it certainly did!

"Then come on," she growled at him, before letting go and turning to look at the rest of the Pack. "All of you!"

The quartet obediently followed her to the parking lot, and got into her car before she raced off towards the local Wal-Mart. God, she hated to go retail chain outlet like this, but they didn't have a lot of time, and so –

"Raw meat aisle," she commanded, and the rest of them quickly piled whatever they could get their hands on into the shopping trolley. Pork chops, Sirloin steak, even hamburger patties – it didn't matter. The scent was driving all of them crazy; even her, Cordelia acknowledged to herself. It was just that she had more willpower than the others to resist gorging indiscriminately. No wonder she was the Alpha!

"Having a party or something?" the acne-infested checkout counter person asked in surprise, as he started bagging her purchases.

"Or something. Here, I'm paying with my Visa," Cordelia said impatiently. "And we're kinda on the clock here, ya know? Can we hurry this along?"

Shrugging, the guy didn't waste any more time chatting and quickly tallied up everything. The Pack carried everything out of the store, and the four of them quickly got into the car with the food at her command. She drove to Weatherly Park – good, it was practically deserted – and then the Pack started to feed.

{ _Oh yes, oh yes, oh ye_ _ **gods!**_ } Cordelia thought triumphantly, as she bit into one of the raw T-bone steaks with a loud crunch. The meat was cold but deliciously fresh, and she devoured it hungrily. As was her right as the Alpha, she went through the purchased items and took whatever she wanted before the leftovers became available to the other members of her Pack. Tor and Heidi first as her Betas, and then Kyle and Rhonda as the Gammas.

She lost all track of time, and she was pretty sure the others did too. Once their bellies were full, the Pack decided to stretch out on the grass and catch some z's. The other Pack members paired off, Kyle with Rhonda and Tor with Heidi, but Cordelia found herself alone as she knelt down close to the others, looking out for them like a good Alpha should.

She quickly decided, though, that she didn't like being alone.

She needed her own companion. A partner. A – a mate.

{ _Yes,_ } Cordelia thought sleepily, even as she kept one eye open for danger. { _The Pack needs to be strong, and expand its numbers. That's why I need my mate alongside me. I'll have to go grab the Dumbass, as soon as the others wake up!_ }

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **A while earlier**

Buffy was sitting on the stairs leading up to the mezzanine level, staring at her Watcher. "So lemme see if I got this straight – we're thinking Cordelia and the Dode Patrol might be possessed?"

"Maybe," Willow interjected from her place at the main table, before Wes had a chance to say anything. "All we know for sure is that she and those four bullies have been acting – well, weird, ever since –"

"Since that trip to the zoo," Xander interrupted, his face looking concerned. "God, I shoulda guessed – I shoulda _**known**_ that something was wrong! After the five of 'em went into that Hyena House, I _**heard**_ them laughing like something out of the David Attenborough ouvre! I shoulda connected all the dots a lot earlier!"

Standing near the book counter, Jesse said, "It's the hyena thing that's weirding me out, ya know. I mean, they couldn't have been possessed by a ghost or, or a poltergeist? What's happened to the movie classics?"

Buffy sent him a dubious look, "Well, assuming 'possession' is the right word."

Wes looked up from his book and said, "I very much suspect it is. The Masai of the Serengeti have known about animal possession for generations. And if this is what's happened... then Miss Chase and her companions may be in grave danger."

Buffy nodded. "Wanna make with the 'splainy?"

The Watcher man looked at her as if he was in deep pain – dammit, was Wes _**ever**_ going to get over his hang-ups concerning the mother tongue, or what? – but then he sighed and said, "Well, apparently there's a sect of animal worshippers on the Dark Continent known as Primals. They have the... somewhat disturbing view that the human soul is a perversion, a dilution of the spirit if you will. To them, the animal state is holy. It's fascinating how their religion evolved, in fact I knew someone at the Academy who actually wrote a thesis on this sort of thing –"

"Wes! Could ya get to the point, like maybe before the twenty-first century shows up?" she barked at him. Ye gods, but the scone-head could really babble on sometimes!

Wesley looked annoyed, but got back on topic. "Yes. Well. The Primals are able, through trans-possession, to draw the spirits of certain animals into themselves. They're interested only in the most predatory types, though. Like lions, and tigers, and –"

"Hyenas," Willow interrupted with a knowing look.

"Yes, that would be consistent with the established lore. In fact, the extinct giant hyena, Pachycrocuta brevirostris – that would have been one of the animals the Primals would have targeted, given it was roughly the size of a female lion," Wes said thoughtfully, before looking through his tome some more. "Hrmm. Interesting."

"What?" Xander demanded.

"The effects of the trans-possession may vary according to the willpower of the Primal, according to the Masai accounts," Wesley reported. "I'm not sure how that helps us, though."

"So, what's the plan?" Jesse asked, visibly ignoring that. "I mean, how do we de-possess 'em, after we bring 'em back alive?"

"I don't know," Wes confessed. "I mean, there are vague references here to a, um, 'predatory act' of some sort, but the details regarding trans-possession are annoyingly vague. I could ask the Council to speak with one of their Masai contacts –"

"Wait a minute! That zookeeper! What was his name again?" Willow interrupted, scrunching her nose in concentration.

"Dr. Weirick," Jesse supplied helpfully.

"Yeah, him!" Willow exclaimed. "He's spoken with these African Masai guys! He told us that, when we chatted with him outside the Hyena House! Remember?"

"Right! And he quarantined the hyenas so that no one but him could have access to them," Buffy said, thinking furiously. "Could be that he guessed something was wrong with them – maybe he'll know something about how to put the Great Laughing Spirit back where it belongs?"

"You and Wes should go talk to him," Xander finally spoke up, still looking grim. "And I should try to track down Cordelia and her – minions. Pack mates. Whatever."

"I, I don't think that's a good idea," Willow said hesitantly, staring at him.

"Why not?" Xander asked cluelessly.

Buffy had to sympathize with the redhead's worried expression; bad enough that Oracle Boy didn't return Willow's feelings (which he damn well _**should**_ have!) but having to watch him worry about the competition like this? { _Must suck to be in Willow's shoes!_ } She quickly snuck a look over towards the other male Slayerette in the house. { _Jesse's too!_ }

"Well, I dunno much about possession, but if _The Exorcist_ is anything to go by? Best case scenario, Cordelia pukes all over you. Worst case, _**you**_ end up getting possessed in her place, and become Hyena Boy. And that is _**not**_ an option, far as I'm concerned," Buffy told Xander bluntly.

"Right. Wouldn't want anything to happen to me – at least not until you've gotten what you want during May, is that it?" Harris asked, growing visibly angry.

"Xander! Don't be so rude!" Willow said admonishingly. "Buffy just wants to make sure nothing happens bad to you! Right, Buff?"

She shrugged, a little embarrassed. "Uh – six of one, half a dozen of the other?"

"We're wasting time," Wes cut in, trying to act all boss-man and in charge. It didn't work, in her view. "Miss Summers, you come with me. The rest of you, try and track down those – possessed individuals. Just be extremely careful, and don't approach them unless you have to – the longer they're possessed, the more animalistic they'll become. Now, hop to it!"

* * *

 **Somewhere on Osgood Street, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

Xander was running for his life, and bitterly regretting the idea he'd come up with earlier today. Namely, to use himself as bait!

It had all started after Buffy and Wes had returned from their lunchtime visit to the zoo, and the meeting with that zookeeper guy. Apparently, Dr. Weirick had explained how if Cordy and the others were possessed, then their hyena instincts would slowly take over completely. Which basically boiled down to _Eat, Sleep,_ and _Mate_. It hadn't taken long for him to figure out that the two couples would choose each other for the last activity, but as for Queen C –

Xander figured he knew her pretty well by now. And if there was one thing he knew for sure about Cordelia Chase, it was that she did _**not**_ like having to share anything of hers with anybody! Even when they were little kids and he'd dressed up as the Black Knight (along with Jesse as the White Knight, of course) for pretend jousting in the Harris backyard, Cordelia had loudly proclaimed that he was _**her**_ Black Knight and no one else's. No matter how annoyed that had made Willow and, to a lesser degree, Jesse as well.

So, if Cordy now wanted to settle for him (and yikes, wasn't _**that**_ a scary thought?), then sooner or later she'd come after him. Her and the four bullies she now commanded, most likely.

Which had meant Wes retrieving a tranq rifle from his condo, Buffy staring at him all funny, Willow wringing her hands with worry and Jesse looking majorly concerned. They had all waited outside the main gates as he went to the Chase mansion after school was over, asking Cordy's parents if they knew where their daughter was. Then, as he hung around outside the grounds of the estate, the rest of the gang had spread out, waiting for their targets to show up.

Too bad it hadn't worked out the way they'd planned, thanks to Drusilla and Spike showing up at precisely the wrong time –

 _ **WHAM!**_

Something that felt suspiciously like an arm slammed into his face, as he ran away from the vampires. Seeing stars, Xander ended up flat on his back, dazed and confused and hurting like hell. He then heard voices –

"Stay the hell away from him, you undead fruitcake!" Cordelia's angry voice was unmistakeable.

"Naughty girl. Red in tooth and claw, now, yes you are! I can see where the blood was drippin' down from yer chin, earlier," Drusilla's sing-song, clearly insane voice replied.

"I don't give a rat's ass, Crazy Girl," Cordelia's voice said scornfully. "You got one chance – get lost right now! Or you'll end up pancake mix, you understand what I'm saying?"

"Hey de, hey de! Misery me, lackaday de. He sipped no sup and he craved no crumb as he sighed for the love of a lady..." Drusilla's voice became fainter and fainter with every passing moment.

Xander wasn't sure if that was because of whether he was slowly losing consciousness, or because the crazed vampiress was physically departing the area, or whether it was something else entirely. But before oblivion claimed him, he suddenly remembered where he had heard those words from before.

The Sunnydale High freshman year talent show. Cordelia had performed the Gilbert and Sullivan theme, from _The Yeoman of the Guard_ –

* * *

 **The Sunnydale Motor Inn, Sunnydale**

 **A while later**

{ _Great Hammer of Thor, what hit me?_ } Xander thought muzzily to himself, as he struggled to wake up. His head was pounding, and even though his eyes were firmly shut, he could tell there was light in the immediate vicinity as it impacted upon his eyelids. { _I can't remember – wait, Cordy?_ }

His jumbled thoughts quickly resolved themselves, as he started to become fully awake. Okay, time to analyze the situation.

One: He had been knocked out cold on the street by his possessed girlfriend.

Two: He had no idea what had happened after that.

Three: He was now lying on something soft, probably a bed – and he could feel both his wrists tied to what were most likely bedposts, or something of that sort.

Four: He no longer had any clothes on. At all.

Five: He had some sort of gag in his mouth. From the round, smooth bump he could trace with his tongue, it was almost certainly a ball gag of some kind.

Put all that together, and it added up to –

{ _I'm screwed._ }

Slowly, painfully, Xander opened his eyes. Ow. He hurt – a lot. But then all such thoughts flew out of this head, as he saw a sight that he knew would stay with him for the rest of his life. No fucking doubt about it.

A girl with her back to him. Wearing nothing but a lacy white bra and white underwear. Dark, chestnut-brown hair. A tattoo on her lower back – some kinda sun/moon thing-y. Back ending in a generously endowed and wonderfully curved ass, and smoothed tanned legs. Magnificent legs. Familiar legs from last summer, when he'd previously seen them; Midsummer's Day –

Cordelia turned around, and he immediately started pleading with her to release him. Of course, the only sounds he could make were incoherent moans, thanks to that damn ball gag, and – wait. Where the hell did Cordy even _**get**_ one of those? He was sure she wasn't into that sort of thing. Well, pretty sure, anyway.

Oh, Loki's balls. What if Cordelia _**was**_ into that stuff? He had a sudden vision of S &M sessions, of black leather and whips and even a scene outta that Quentin Tarantino movie, _Pulp Fiction_ –

But then Cordelia came over beside him and removed the gag from his mouth. He twisted his head to the side and said frantically, "Oh thank God! Listen, Cordy, you have to let me go, I know –"

She dropped her underwear to the floor in one smooth motion, before tossing the bra aside as well, and then Cordelia just stood there – in all her naked glory.

"Gugh..." Xander's tongue got all tripped up inside his mouth, as he tried not to examine Cordelia Chase au naturel.

He failed, totally and completely.

{ _Wow. Brazilian,_ } Snarky  & Annoying voice spoke up from the back of his head, after his lust-filled gaze finished roaming all over that incredible body. { _And get a load of those hooters! Nice to finally see them up close and personal, without that damn bra getting in the way._ }

Xander would have started arguing with that darn voice in his head, except Cordelia decided at that moment to climb on top of him and start making out with him. Despite himself, Xander responded. Enthusiastically.

{ _Oooh, yeah. Too bad she's possessed, or this could be_ _ **the**_ _night we've been dreaming about for a while now,_ } Snarky  & Annoying voice interjected smugly.

Then Cordelia bit his lower lip and he yelped in pain, said act quickly bringing Xander back to reality as he felt himself start to bleed. "OW! Hey, what –"

He then watched in amazement as Cordelia bit her own lower lip and roughly kissed him again, before pulling back and looking at him hungrily. "We be of one blood, thou and I."

{ _The first Jungle Book. Baloo the Bear said that to Mowgli, when he was teaching the Man-cub the Laws of The Jungle._ } Xander could remember the quote, even if he didn't understand why his girlfriend had said that. Or why she had chosen to mix their blood this way.

"Uh, sweetheart –" he started to say.

"I want you inside me," Cordy cut him off at once, before kissing him hard. Almost brutally hard. Wasn't the worst thing imaginable, but compared to how she usually kissed him –

Wait a minute. Did she actually say what he thought she'd said?

{ _RED ALERT! RED ALERT! ALL HANDS TO BATTLE STATIONS!_ }

Xander ignored that panicked voice inside his head as best he could, after he realized what Cordy's plan was. Because even though he wanted her – hey, sixteen, straight and a nekkid Cordelia Chase straddling his groin? He wasn't _**that**_ idiotic – Xander didn't want their first time to be like this. Not while she was possessed, for crying out loud!

"Well, I dunno," Xander ad-libbed after she let go of his still-bleeding lips. "I mean, there's something else inside you already. Could get a little crowded in there."

"Don't try to pretend you don't want this as much as I do," Cordelia fired back, leaning in closer.

"Okay, fine. But, y'know, I make it a rule never to sleep with possessed people –"

One arm snaked around the back of his neck as Cordy came closer, attaching her lips to his again with undisguised lust. A few moments later, he said dazedly, "Well, it's more of an actual guideline than a strict rule, but –"

"Shut up. I need you to impregnate me," was the next thing to come out of Cordelia's mouth, which (unlike the concept of mere sex) caused total brain lock for at least five seconds. Couldn't have been five hours. Well, almost certainly couldn't have been.

"You need me to _**what?!**_ " he eventually gasped, staring at Queen C in sheer disbelief.

"I want you to put a baby inside me. Now. It's the perfect time, since I'm ovulating and I quit using the pill not long after my birthday –"

"You what? Why?" Xander interrupted, unable to believe it. Sixteen plus living in southern California, and she'd stopped taking that sort of precaution? What the heck?!

"That thing on the news, about the drugs eventually causing ovarian cancer. Whatever, the Pack's numbers need to grow – and the sooner the better," Cordelia replied. Again, he couldn't believe it when she added, "Tor and Kyle are screwing Heidi and Rhonda in the room adjacent to ours right now, in order to accomplish that. But you need to do your part for the Pack as well."

"Oh, God, you've completely lost it! Cordelia, _**think!**_ If I got you pregnant, your father would use me for target practice with his twelve-gauge!" Xander told her fervently. "Plus, we're teenagers! Geez louise, I'm way too young for something like that! _**You're**_ way too young for something like that!"

"I am _**Alpha!**_ " she snarled at him, before calming down. "You need to be persuaded? All right. That won't take long."

Xander was about to ask what that meant, precisely, when her eyes flashed green – and he had the funniest feeling that _**something**_ was trying to get inside him. But that feeling didn't last for more than a few seconds, before it vanished.

"NO!" Cordelia shouted, immediately looking furious. "Why didn't it work? Why aren't you Pack? We're one blood now, so why haven't you –"

"Not exactly Joe Normal anymore, sweetheart," he interrupted her quietly. "And haven't been since last summer, remember?"

Cordelia glared at him, before she smiled. He didn't like that smile, as she slid backwards and off of his groin. Confused, Xander was about to ask what she was doing – when she opened her mouth and lowered her head – and oh ye gods, her _**tongue**_ –

* * *

 **The Sunnydale Motor Inn, Sunnydale**

 **A while later**

Xander wasn't sure exactly how long he had blanked out – it could have seconds, or minutes, or even longer – but he suddenly came back to reality when he heard a loud slurping noise, and the incredible sensations he'd been feeling thanks to Cordelia's talented tongue abruptly ceased. { _Huh? What?_ }

"I knew it wouldn't take long," the brunette said smugly, before he looked in her direction and found – much to his embarrassment – that Little Xander was now fully erect. Damn. Sometimes, it just didn't pay to be sixteen and a guy –

"Cordy, no! Please, _**don't!**_ " Xander pleaded with her urgently. Sure, it was already way too late as far as the blow job was concerned; but there was still an opportunity to end this before she gave him her virginity on a silver platter. Well, hopefully.

A part of Xander couldn't believe he was actually trying to stop this from happening, that he was attempting to talk this incredibly beautiful and desirable girl out of having sexual relations with him; but another part of him – a steadily weakening part – knew that if Cordelia was in her right mind, she wouldn't be doing this. No way in hell.

She wouldn't want to risk becoming pregnant at this point in her life. The threat of stretch marks alone would be enough to make her mercilessly torture him –

"Your mouth may be saying 'no, no, no!' but your tool is definitely saying 'yes, yes, yes!' Because despite not being Pack – yet – you're still _**mine**_ ," Cordelia replied arrogantly, slithering her way upwards. The feeling of her naked body against his was enough to make Little Xander twitch uncontrollably, and she smirked triumphantly. "Always have been, and always will be. So why fight it? Wasn't this always more or less inevitable?"

"Not. This. Way," he grunted, trying to get himself under control. { _C'mon, concentrate asshole. Think unpleasant thoughts! Uh, homework. Vampires. Root canals! Wesley in a leather thong –_ }

But all rational thought was completely short-circuited, when Cordelia kissed him again. He simply couldn't help it. His possessed girlfriend must have finally remembered that she knew exactly what he liked, and how to turn him into your typical sex-crazed male. After his brain had entered meltdown mode for an indeterminate time, Xander opened his eyes – just in time to see Cordelia about to impale herself upon his manhood.

He'd failed to stop this! Holy shit, he was about to enter the realm of –

Time itself seemed to stop at that moment, and then abruptly restart – when the door to the motel room unexpectedly burst open.

"XANDER!" Buffy shouted, her eyes growing anime-wide as she and Willow came in and saw what was happening.

"HELP! HELP!" Xander started shouting straightaway, as Cordelia swung herself off of him; her maidenhead still (miraculously) intact as she started growling at the new arrivals. _**Literally**_.

"Uh, Cordelia? Look, I don't wanna have to use force, or hurt you or anything," Buffy told her hesitantly, before she ducked the wild haymaker that his girlfriend tried to deliver. "Still, doesn't mean I won't!" She quickly punched Cordy in the face, sending her stumbling backwards.

" _ **Don't**_ hurt her!" Xander shouted at the Slayer, now struggling desperately to get loose.

[ It's okay, I've got this! ] Willow's voice suddenly said in his mind, even though she was deliberately not looking in his direction. Xander couldn't blame her – not under the current circumstances – but he suddenly grew concerned when Cordy started screaming and cursing wildly.

{ _Wow!_ } Xander thought to himself in amazement, as his girlfriend rose nearly four feet into the air. Kicking and struggling ineffectively all the while. Man, all that jiggling was certainly – no, concentrate! { _Willow? Please, be careful! Don't you_ _ **dare**_ _drop her!_ }

A soft 'phut!" noise distracted him, and then Wesley's voice said, "Please calm down, Miss Chase. This'll all be over soon."

"I'LL KILL YOU ALL FOR THIS! THE PACK MUST GROW STRONGER! HOW **DARE** YOU INTERFERE –" Cordelia yelled hatefully, before her body abruptly slumped and she fell silent.

"Is she okay?!" Xander demanded, still struggling to get loose.

"She's unharmed. There was enough phenobarbital in that dart to render the girl unconscious for at least an hour," Wesley said clinically, coming into view. "Right, then, Miss Rosenberg – you can put Miss Chase down now. Then perhaps you and Miss Summers would be so kind as to step outside, until Mr. Harris puts his clothes back on?" The British guy quickly started to get to work on the knots holding him prisoner.

"Not a problem as far as I'm concerned. C'mon, Will – let's go check on Jesse, and see if those other four are still unconscious," Slay-gal said, holding a hand in front of her eyes as the Willster finishing lowering Cordy back down to the floor. Then both girls exited the room, pronto.

"Thanks," Xander grunted to Wesley, feeling horribly embarrassed over the total nudity factor. His and Cordelia's.

"Don't mention it," the librarian replied, still working on the ropes and refusing to look at him. "And I really mean that, Mr. Harris. Please don't mention any of this _**ever**_ again!"

TBC...

* * *

 **A/N:** Whew, this was one tough chapter to write. I _did_ say there were going to be some adult concepts in this one, didn't I? And it's not over yet, the events of "The Pack" have just started. Plus, I really need to thank my beta readers for all their help! Haven't done enough of that, lately. See, there was one section that didn't make the final edit, a glimpse into Xander's subconscious while Cordelia was pleasuring him; a Herman's Head type scenario which was a bit too... ham-fisted. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you tell me what you thought of the latest developments!


	26. Consequences

**Chapter Twenty-six: Consequences**

 **Outside the Sunnydale Motor Inn, Sunnydale**

 **March 6** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Willow felt sick. Revolted. Disgusted. You name it, she felt it –

{ _How dare she? How_ _ **dare**_ _she?_ } Willow seethed, trying with all her might to get the image of her old rival about to have sex with Xander out of her mind. { _Okay, I know Cordelia's possessed and everything right now, but still – how_ _ **dare**_ _that tramp do something like that?!_ }

"Willow?" Buffy's concerned voice made her pay attention to her best friend, and Willow turned to look at her. "You feeling all right?"

"No. I'm really not," she replied shortly. { _In fact, right now I'm totally fighting the urge to go all Terminatrix on Cordelia's ass!_ }

"Guess I can't blame ya," Buffy nodded. "Myself, I'm thinking brain bleach after what we just witnessed. Lots of it."

"It's just – how _**could**_ she?!" Willow suddenly exploded. "All right, I know in her current state Cordelia's idea of seducing a guy doesn't exactly involve a six-pack of beer and a couple of Viagra pills, but she –"

"She just tried to screw the guy you love," Buffy interrupted. "And the worst part is – even though Xander started screaming for help as soon as we showed up, it didn't look like he was actually objecting to what Cordelia was doing – what with the way his mainsail was fully hoisted, so to speak. That about the size and shape?"

"Yeah. I hate this, Buffy," Willow shook her head miserably. "And I hate the fact that I'm almost as disgusted with Xander, as I am with Cordelia! Even after she tied him up that way, he actually – I mean, how could he have possibly _ **enjoyed**_ something like that?!"

"Oh, Willow. You really don't know that much about guys, do you?" Buffy said pityingly. "Y'know, I read in _Cosmo_ that men, you can put 'em in one of three groups. Gay, uninterested, and the ones who start thinking with their you-know-what the first moment they even look at a girl. I'm guessing that, despite the whole Oracle thing, Xander definitely belongs in category number three!"

"Yeah, you're right," she nodded slowly. "And ya know what, Buffy? I just realized – I deserve better than that. I really do! I deserve better than to constantly feel sorry for myself over how that slut won this particular contest! I deserve to find a guy who feels the same way about me, that I do about him!"

"You sure do!" the Slayer nodded eagerly. "And as soon as we get Cordelia and the rest of them un-possessed? I'll help you do just that."

"Thanks, Buff." Willow sent her a wan smile. Then she frowned. "Still, that kinda begs the question. How are we gonna get all five of them over to the Sunnydale Zoo for Dr. Weirick to fix this? They're not all gonna fit into Wesley's car, that's for sure – especially not with all the rest of us trying to squeeze in as well!"

Just then a 1994 Ford E-350 U-Haul box truck pulled over into the nearby parking lot. A tall, good-looking guy with dark, gelled-looking hair got out and came walking towards them. "Hello, Buffy. It's been a while."

"YOU!" Buffy semi-snarled, her hand automatically going to the back of her pants to pull out a wooden stake.

"Buff? Who is this?" Willow asked, checking out the handsome-looking hunk. Too bad he was at least ten years older than her, or she might have been tempted to –

"His name's Angelus," Buffy said tightly, watching the new arrival like a hawk.

"What?!" Willow whirled to face the guy at once. Taking a step back, and preparing to –

"The name's Liam, actually," Angelus, or Liam, or whoever he was replied. Willow felt somewhat insulted that he wasn't paying any attention to her; he only had eyes for her best friend as he added, "Angelus no longer exists, Buffy. Neither does Angel, the vampire with a soul."

"Heard that theory from Wes, sure. Didn't believe it then, still don't believe it now," Buffy replied, not relaxing her guard in the slightest. "What are you doing here, nosferatool?"

"I was informed by a seer friend of mine that you and your friends were going to need transportation," Liam said, gesturing to the U-Haul truck and ignoring the insult. "Enough to move roughly a dozen people. Will this do?"

"Yeah, you betcha! This is _**just**_ what we need," Willow said eagerly, focusing on nothing but the truck. "Okay, let's tell Jesse the sitch, and then the four of us can move Tor, Kyle, Heidi and Rhonda onto that truck. If I know Xander, he'll want to carry Cordelia on board himself –"

"Whoa, Will, slow down! Vampire here, remember?" Buffy nodded her head towards Liam distrustfully. "None of us are going anywhere with _**him!**_ "

"You really don't trust anything I say at all, do you?" the new arrival asked sadly, shaking his head. "Seriously, not a vampire any longer; I'm just as human as you are now. Honestly, Buffy, when was the last time you saw one of the undead wearing a cross around his neck?"

Willow blinked before the guy took out a loop of chain with a silver cross attached, which had been underneath his shirt. She then noticed her best friend's eyes grow incredibly wide – almost as wide as they'd been a few minutes ago, when they'd discovered Cordelia about to do the deed with Xander – as Buffy stammered, "Wh-wha-? You, uh, huh?"

"Your Watcher didn't lie to you about me, Buffy. I really am human now. A Champion for the Powers That Be," Liam said slowly. Willow decided she preferred that name to Angelus, anyway.

"Okay, good for you. But right now – priorities, people!" she said firmly, gesturing for Liam to follow her and grabbing Buffy by the arm. "C'mon, let's get the Possessed Squad onto the truck and over to the zoo, before the tranquilizer wears off!"

* * *

 **Sunnydale Zoo Hyena House, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

Dr. Weirick was somewhat surprised when a lot more people than he'd been expecting showed up at the hyena enclosure.

Earlier that day, after the visit by Mr. Wyndam-Pryce and Miss Summers, he'd felt like kicking himself for failing to realize that the trans-possession rite had required a predatory act of some sort. The clues had been there, after all – especially with the description of the Primals offering a sacrifice to the animal spirits they'd worshipped. Still, he'd more or less put that behind him – so what if those kids had managed to pull off something by accident which he couldn't do on purpose?

The power of the Greater Totemic Spirit inhabiting those schoolchildren would be his. Weirick was determined that it would be so.

Still, all dressed up in Masai ceremonial garb, he hadn't anticipated so many individuals to show up at the Hyena House, most of them carrying someone unconscious –

"What happened?" he asked, focusing on Mr. Wyndam-Pryce as the unconscious teenagers were lowered onto the floor.

"Ahhh, our plan to capture the hyena-possessed children worked. More or less," the Englishman said stiffly. "Now, I assume you're ready to carry out the reverse trans-possession we discussed earlier today?"

"More or less," Weirick replied, gesturing to the hyenas. When the Rosenberg girl went to move closer, he grabbed her and said warningly, "No, stay back! They haven't been fed."

"Oh. Right. Sorry," she said somewhat sheepishly.

"So what's the plan?" the McNally boy asked, briefly glancing down to where another male teenager was on his knees and brushing back the hair from one of the unconscious females. Hrmm. His girlfriend, perhaps? No, didn't matter –

"Well, from the sources I've consulted, we'll need a predatory act of some sort of carry out the reverse trans-possession. But, uh, the five of them will need to be awake in order to draw the Hyena spirits out of them," Weirick said, quickly managing to focus.

"Predatory act?" Mr. Wyndam-Pryce asked. "And we have to wake them up? No, with their abilities, that's far too dangerous! Especially where Miss Chase is concerned – she threatened to kill us all, earlier tonight!"

" _ **Not**_ her fault," the boy who'd been brushing the girl's hair back suddenly looked up and glared at the Englishman.

"Yeah, Xand, but still. Cordy's – kind of deadly, right now," Mr. McNally said hesitantly.

"He's right. We need to secure her and the others, somehow," Miss Rosenberg agreed.

"You got any rope?" Miss Summers asked him.

"Yes, but I doubt that'll be enough. The enhanced strength from drawing on the Hyena spirits inside them – that'll be able to overcome any normal bindings," he shook his head.

"Oooh! Then how about a spell?" the redhead asked eagerly. "Like, like a barrier spell of some kind?"

"Sand of the Red Palm," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce nodded. "Fairly simple, yet effective – as long as the containment circle isn't breached from the outside."

"Any sand around here?" Miss Summers asked, looking around.

"As a matter of fact, yes." Weirick put down his ceremonial staff, and went to a nearby supply closet set into the wall. He got out his key, unlocked it and grabbed a bucket's worth of the stuff. "It's used for maintaining the hyena enclosure. Will this do?"

"Well, beggars can't be choosers," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce said critically. "Miss Rosenberg?"

"We'll need more. Dr. Weirick, could you start spreading it around Cordelia and the others?" the redhead asked absently. "Uh, Wesley, what exactly is involved in doing a binding spell like this?"

Weirick only partly paid attention to the rest of the conversation as he began his task. He asked the others to move the prisoners to within the circle-seal, and then he told the 'Xand' boy to let go of his girlfriend and move out of the circle if he didn't want to be trapped in there with the five possessed teens. Reluctantly, he did so.

"Okay, it's done," Weirick said about a minute later. "What now?"

"A Latin incantation, and a sacrifice of blood to make the sand magically binding," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce declared. "In fact, the more of us who shed blood upon the sand, the more powerful it'll be as a mystical barrier."

Weirick nodded, somewhat impressed as everyone made a shallow slice on the palm of their hands and let a few drops of blood splash onto the sand. And after Miss Rosenberg said something completely incomprehensible to him, the sand morphed into a dark red color and a circular column of reddish light appeared around the hyena-possessed kids.

"Now, I suppose all we have to do is wait for them to wake up," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce said thoughtfully.

"Come on. Cordelia, wake up!" the 'Xand' youth muttered, staring at the female in question. "Please, wake up!"

Weirick was again somewhat surprised to learn that roughly half a minute later, the young woman did exactly that. One moment, she was out cold and flat on her back; the next, she was up on her feet and slamming into the barrier, a feral snarl on her face.

"AUGHH!" she growled angrily, before focusing on her companions. "Tor! Heidi! Kyle! Rhonda! Wake up, dammit!" She started kicking them, and somewhat viciously at that. "I said _**wake up!**_ "

In a matter of moments, then, the entire group was awake and on their feet. "XANDER!" the brunette snarled, focusing on the male teen in question. Obviously the Alpha of the Pack. She then added, "What the _**hell**_ do you think you're doing, Dumbass? Let us out of here! NOW!"

"Not yet, Cor," the boy shook his head. "Not until you and the others have been de-possessed. We gotta get those Hyena spirits outta you –"

"NOOOO!" all five of the prisoners yelled angrily, before they threw themselves against the mystical barrier. To no avail, fortunately.

"We should get started," Mr. Wyndam-Pryce said coldly, ignoring their antics.

"Yes. Miss Summers, could you please come over here?" Weirick asked, pulling out a knife. "I need to carry out the predatory act, to transfer the Hyena spirits out of there –"

"Which involves what, exactly?" the 'Xander' boy interrupted, turning to look at him.

Weirick looked at him in annoyance. "Well, that's –"

But then he broke off in surprise, as the youth's brown eyes morphed into the strangest color of green; and they sparkled and shimmered in the hyena enclosure's relatively dim light –

" _Empowering yourself is not the worst idea imaginable, but your strategy to accomplish that isn't even remotely advisable. Because deliberate possession by a Greater Totemic Spirit without observing the proper rituals will quickly destroy you, from the inside out."_

Weirick's eyes almost bulged out of their sockets. { _What – how? How did he know-?_ }

No. No time. People were already starting to look at him accusingly, so he lunged at Miss Summers, shouting, "YU BA YA SA NA!"

The girl grabbed his arm as the knife was coming down, preventing it from reaching her chest – effortlessly, or so it seemed – but then, it was as if he was suddenly plugged into the electrical energy of the entire damn _**universe**_ _._ He saw the eyes of the five captive teenagers flash green, and then _**something**_ entered him. The power – oh sweet blessed Moses, the _**power!**_

"Buffy, look out!" he heard someone yell, before he dropped the knife and moved in to bite the Summers girl on the neck, the bloodlust suddenly completely overwhelming.

The punch from the brownish-blonde girl was unexpectedly powerful. Way too powerful from someone of her height and weight. But he shrugged it off and punched her back. She went staggering backwards, but then he was attacked from behind – the McNally boy and someone else, the tall dark-haired man with way too much hair gel –

{ _No matter._ } Flexing his muscles, both mental and physical, Weirick easily tossed them both away and charged the Summers girl again, but she sent him backwards with a right hooking side-kick. He immediately charged her once more, before she ducked, grabbed him by the neck and tossed him onto his back.

{ _That's it!_ } With a loud roar he got up and raced towards her, intending to tear her apart limb from limb; but the damned child managed to get under him again, heaving him up and throwing him into the hyena pit.

{ _NO! NO!_ } Weirick started gibbering with fear as he tried to climb out, but the hyenas clamped their jaws onto his legs and dragged him back down into the enclosure.

Pain! Agony! They were eating him ali-

* * *

 **Sunnydale Zoo Hyena House, Sunnydale**

 **A moment later**

Buffy looked upon the scene of the zookeeper's grisly death with sick shock and horror. She hadn't intended for that to happen – she hadn't! The throw had been purely instinctive, a combat move in the heat of battle – she hadn't meant for Dr. Weirick to die –

{ _I, I didn't mean it. I didn't! I didn't want for him to get killed!_ }

"Miss Summers! Miss Summers, can you hear me?" Wesley's annoying voice suddenly distracted her from her musings. "Miss Summers!"

"What?" she said vaguely, turning to look at her Watcher.

"Don't blame yourself for Dr. Weirick's death! Do you understand? That man was trying to kill you, and he'd forfeited all rights to human law _**and**_ clemency after doing that abominable ritual of his! My upcoming report to the Council will state as such," Wesley insisted, and for some reason, she found herself unable to look away from his eyes. "Now, are you all right? Are you harmed in any way?"

"No, I – I'm okay," she said, blinking rapidly. "Not injured or anything. Uh, pretty sure."

"Come with me," Wesley put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm taking you back to my flat. I suspect you may be going into shock – you're shaking, and your skin is covered with goosebumps. I'll brew a nice hot cup of tea to calm you down."

"I'm coming as well," Jesse looked and sounded concerned as she turned to face him.

"Me, too! Buffy, you shouldn't be alone right now," Willow spoke up, as Buffy glanced in her direction.

"Can I do anything to help?" Angelus – no, Liam – asked, sounding equally concerned.

"Uh, no; we've got everything under control here, thank you," Wesley told him absently. Then he focused and added, "I do appreciate the offer, though. And thank you for your assistance earlier this evening as well, believe me – we definitely owe you for coming through when we needed it!"

"No problem. Okay, well, if you're sure I can't help –"

"You can't," she told the ex-vampire vaguely, her mind still whirling from the enormity of what she'd just done.

"Right. Then I better head back to L.A. and return that truck to where I rented it from," the guy said, looking somewhat disappointed. "Still, Buffy, if you need help with anything – including and especially Spike and Dru – then have Wyndam-Pryce call me, okay? I'll leave your Watcher a number I can be contacted on. All right?"

"Yeah, whatever," Buffy said numbly, not really paying attention to the conversation. She suddenly suspected Wes may actually have been right for once, she probably was going into shock – she was freezing, and actually shivering –

She felt Willow grab hold of her and escort her out of the Hyena House, with Jesse and Wes following close behind as she clung desperately to her best friend. It wasn't long before the scalding tears started to flow, as she climbed into the back seat of Wesley's 1993 MX-3 roadster and Willow held her even more tightly.

{ _I killed someone, or I caused him to die, anyway. Nothing's ever gonna be the same again._ }

* * *

 **Sunnydale Zoo Hyena House, Sunnydale**

 **A minute or so earlier**

Xander was vaguely aware that Buffy had started wigging out after the zookeeper guy had been killed and eaten by the hyenas, but he had other things on his mind right now.

Initially, he'd had no idea what was going on – one moment they'd been about to de-possess Cordy and the others, and the next, that Dr. Weirick guy was trying to kill the Buffster. Then the zookeeper had chanted something deep and meaningless, the Pack's eyes had flashed green, and then –

Slay-gal had started whaling on the bad guy, he'd known that. And it had ended really badly for the black hat. But most of his attention had been focused on Cordelia. Xander was willing to admit to himself that he'd been _**very**_ worried about his girlfriend. Not so much for the bullies she'd been commanding lately, although there was a smidgen of concern there, too – hey, he'd known all of them since elementary school, even though they weren't friends or anything. But yeah – Queen C was his priority.

Because, if nothing else, she had done her best to turn him into a man earlier tonight!

And she'd almost succeeded, too. Just a few more seconds, and Cordelia would have gotten what she wanted. In more ways than one, unfortunately – Little Xander had been primed and ready to explode like a fire hose inside her, no doubt about it. Talk about the worst case of blue balls in the history of history itself –

{ _Note to self: always carry protection from now on. It might not do you any good if you're tied to the bed and can't reach it, but better to have a condom in your wallet and not need it than the other way around._ }

Anyway, once the others were gone, he approached the mystical barrier and broke through the circle of sand with his shoe. Straightaway, the reddish light vanished. The four bullies got up and scrambled away, running out of the Hyena House without a word. But Cordelia didn't move. She stayed on the floor, a thousand yard stare on her face before he gently lifted her up to her feet.

"Cordelia? Honey, can you hear me?" Xander asked gently.

"Yeah, I – Xander? Am I dreaming? Is, is this some kind of nightmare?" she asked vaguely, not even looking at him.

"Yeah, sweetheart. Just a bad dream. Come on, time to go home," Xander told her gently, not wanting to lie but not wanting for his girl to completely flip out, either. Wasn't hard to tell which of the two evils was worse right now, as he led her out of the Hyena House.

"This is such a strange dream," Cordelia said vaguely, as they headed for the zoo's main gates. Heh, the security around here really was pathetic. Under other circumstances, he'd be tempted to report it to someone; but right now, he had to get Cordelia to safety first.

Cordy added in that vague, lightheaded voice, "Parts of it have been really awful. Like, I ate so much raw meat, it feels like I've grown a second stomach or something! But other parts of the dream – they've been kinda wonderful. Like, like when we were in bed together, and it felt so good – it made me feel like a real woman, finally expressing our love that way. I just wish the real you could have seen it, and felt it."

"Mm-hmm," Xander made a noncommittal noise of agreement, as they kept walking.

"It makes me think about the future, y'know, after high school," she added hazily. "If we'll ever get married, like Madam Devora said might happen. 'Cause I'm pretty sure that other future isn't an option, not anymore."

"Why do you say that, Cor?" he asked gently, now paying more attention to her babbling.

"Well, I've already made contingency plans for when Daddy eventually gets busted by the IRS for being a tax cheat," she replied, which almost made him stumble and fall over flat on his face. Cordelia never noticed as she added, "Nope, no Poverty Girl future for me. Cordelia Chase was born filthy rich, and she's gonna die filthy rich, that's for sure!"

"I'm glad. Although it probably wouldn't matter if you ever ended up dirt poor – you, you'd just grab life by the balls and squeeze, until you were totally wealthy again," he replied, still trying to process what Cordy had just told him. { _Wow. Mr. Chase is cheating on his taxes? Huh. So that's his big secret – yeah, no wonder he didn't want anyone to find out! Damn. My girlfriend's father really is a crook –_ }

"Hey, yeah, you're right. I so would!" Cordelia nodded vigorously, even if she still looked totally out of it. "But I'd still want you there at my side, you know. Madam Devora said we'd get married two and a half years after high school in that good future, remember? I wonder, Xander – would our wedding night be like what happened in my dream just now?"

"Who knows, Cordy? Who knows," he said uncomfortably. "Just as long as we don't get drunk and elope to Vegas during your twenty-first birthday party, that's the important thing."

"Oh, puh-lease!" Cordelia giggled, as they finally made their way out of the zoo and onto South Marion Drive. "Like _**that**_ would ever happen! 'Cause I want a big church wedding when the time comes. With lots of bridesmaids, and my father escorting me down the aisle as they play the wedding march. Well, if he's not in jail or anything. Oh, and, and, I want a big wedding reception, too. A three-layer wedding cake, with pillar supports and those cute little topper figurines. Plus, flowing champagne, and lots of people dancing! Can you see all that happening, Doofus? 'Cause I sure can!"

"Yup, I believe you, honey," Xander told her as calmly as he could, even though the topic of conversation was starting to freak him out a little. Okay, sure, he'd known that all girls fantasized about their wedding day – but still. Not that he considered himself a flight risk or anything, but he was only sixteen, for crying out loud!

He wasn't supposed to be thinking about that stuff yet. Was he?

Xander shook his head as Cordelia kept on talking about this and that, and kept silent until they managed to get to a public phone booth. Then he called the Chase residence, and asked Lupe to send Mr. Chase's chauffeur to pick up Cordelia and take her home. Luckily, the maid didn't ask questions and simply said that Ronald would be there in just a few minutes.

It took longer than just a 'few' minutes for the Chase limo to show up, but thankfully it finally put in an appearance. Xander had taken the precaution of keeping both himself and Cordelia inside the phone booth until it arrived – Sunnydale at night, no point in taking any risks with the vamps and demons looking for a free meal – but then he led her out of there and towards the 1996 Cadillac Fleetwood vehicle.

Xander wasn't actually expecting Cordelia to grab him by the arm and drag him inside the limousine with her; he'd been planning to make his own way home after the car set off for the Chase manor – but what the hell. Parkview Crescent wasn't all that far from Whiteoak Drive; and it was a lot closer than the Sunnydale Zoo, anyway.

* * *

 **Elsewhere in Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

Spike was walking along, trying to blow off some steam before heading back to the lair. Unfortunately, he wasn't succeeding very well.

That sodding girl – the prescient whelp's one – she'd knocked him out cold earlier tonight. With just one punch. Him! William the Bloody! Slayer of two Slayers! How the heck had she pulled that off?

All right, yeah, Dru had said she was all 'red in tooth and claw' now – hell, he'd smelled the animal blood staining her lips for himself – but still, so what? How could some effin' mortal – a lousy bint like her, no less – have become strong enough to do what she did?

{ _Can't 'ave become the new Slayer. The old one's still hangin' around, after all,_ } Spike thought to himself angrily. He was still annoyed about that – Betty should have been six feet under long ago, by this point – but right now, that wasn't so much of a priority to focus on in his mind. { _Maybe that so-called Dark Lady is muckin' about with things, somehow? She_ _ **did**_ _say fer me 'n Dru not to kill either the whelp or the girl that night, after all!_ }

Still, deity involvement or not, Spike knew he couldn't just accept that sort of insult from a mere blood bag like her. { _Gonna 'ave to do something 'bout this. What, though, that's the thing –_ }

"Behold, a vampire seeking prey," an unfamiliar voice said, as Spike turned around in annoyance. "Blessed be, kinsman – as where the mortals are weak, we are strong. Where they weep, we rejoice. Where they bleed..." The black vampire laughed, "...we drink!"

"Who the hell are you?" Spike demanded, slipping into his demon face.

"The Master never mentioned me? The name is Absalom," the annoying git explained, almost gliding along the sidewalk towards him. "Proud member of the Order of Aurelius, brother. And you are?"

"Name's Spike."

"William the Bloody? I've heard of you. And I come seeking answers to my questions. Such as, where are the Master's bones so that we may resurrect him?"

Spike stared at his fellow undead, raising a scarred eyebrow. "Resurrect him, eh? You can do that, then?"

"It's not so difficult, with the right materials – like all the witnesses to the Master's demise. The blood that will pour from their throats will bring new life unto him! Now, tell me. Where are the Master's bones? Speak!" Absalom commanded.

"They're nothing but pulverised bits 'n pieces scattered all over Sunnyhell, you ponce. Which is a good thing for me, idnit? 'Cause don't fancy you tryin' to rip me throat open anytime soon – or Dru's!" Spike growled, before attacking the other vampire.

Unfortunately, Absalom (while momentarily surprised) was no slouch when it came to combat – he was easily able to hold his own, as they fought. In between punches, he growled, "Filthy betrayer! Your time is done, William. I'll grind you down to a sticky paste, and hear you beg for mercy – before finally erasing you from existence!"

"Yeah? You 'n wot army? Case you 'aven't noticed, mate, yer all alone – and I'm the master o' the Hellmouth now!" he replied, grinning – before launching an all-out assault on the other vampire.

Totally letting go. There was little if any finesse or planning, Spike just followed his blood – all fists, feet and fangs, and unleashing all his earlier frustrations with the girl on this annoying arse!

Absalom hadn't expected that, he could tell – the pseudo-preacher was used to fighting rational opponents, not enraged berserkers. Loudmouthed pillock didn't know how ta deal with that sort of thing, and Spike fully intended to capitalise on the advantage of surprise –

Until the bloody coward somehow got in a lucky punch, before he turned around and started to run away!

"Another time, William!" Absalom shouted, even as he vanished into the night. "And you'll pay for your actions! You and your woman, both!"

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Okay, that's the events of "The Pack" more or less done, there's just the aftermath to go; once that's out of the way, we move on to the next part of this weirdly AU version of BTVS season one. I'm curious, what episode would everyone most like to see? Big thanks to everybody who's reading and reviewing and/or sending feedback, as always, it's muchly appreciated!


	27. Late-night Conversations

**Chapter Twenty-seven: Late-night Conversations**

 **Apartment B of 523 Oak Park Street, Sunnydale**

 **March 6** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Jesse couldn't help thinking this had been one heck of an exciting night so far.

For example, he'd learned that that pirated copy of _Debbie Does Dallas_ which he'd recently enjoyed watching – well, however entertaining the porno movie had been, it didn't even come close to the real thing!

The sight of a naked Heidi Barrie with her ankles wrapped around Tor Hauer's neck as he thrust savagely inside her – that was something Jesse was pretty sure he'd remember for the rest of his life. Likewise, the image of Rhonda Kelly's exposed nether regions as Kyle DuFours pounded into her relentlessly.

(Not that he preferred to watch other people pet the beaver in real life. Hey, he wanted to experience sex for himself, not become some kinda voyeur!)

Another thing he was pretty sure he'd always remember was the expression on Willow's face (combined rage and heartbreak) and Buffy's face (combined disgust and embarrassment) after they'd come out of Xander and Cordelia's room at the Sunnydale Motor Inn. It hadn't been hard to guess _**why**_ Slay-gal and the Willster had been looking like that, either. And even though he'd later learned that his best bud and the girl of his dreams hadn't fully done the deed, like the other four –

{ _It's over,_ } Jesse had thought despondently during the ride to the zoo, thanks to that Liam guy who'd somehow shown up with exactly what they'd needed. _{ I'm_ _ **done**_ _thinking of Cordelia that way. Willow's right – I need to find a girl who feels the same way about me that I do about her. And once the current crisis is over, that's what I'm gonna do!_ }

Then there had been that darn de-possessing ritual, which had gotten kinda complicated by the fact that Dr. Weirick had been some kind of bad guy in disguise. The zookeeper had managed to get the hyenas outta everyone, sure – but by taking them into himself, just after Xan had done the Oracle thing again? And then ending up dead, after attacking Buffy?

{ _Way too surreal, even for your usual supernatural monkey business around here._ }

At least everyone was okay – physically. Emotionally, Buffy looked like a complete wreck right now. She had her hands around that cup of tea Wes had prepared for her, and she looked like she had zoned out completely.

"Buffy? I'm not gonna ask if you're okay, 'cause y'know, stupid question. But are you gonna be alright?" Willow asked worriedly.

"I don't know," Buffy replied, her eyes still focused on the cup of tea as Wes adjusted the blanket around her shoulders. "I honestly don't. Because he was a person, and I killed him."

"No you didn't! It was an accident! Well, sorta –" Willow started to say.

"No, it wasn't," Buffy disagreed. "It was heat of the moment, sure, but when I threw Dr. Weirick away from me – I could have aimed for somewhere else. I could have –"

"If you'd done that, in my view – the only thing that would have ended up different was that someone else would have had to slay that man, Miss Summers," Wesley interrupted, causing everyone to look at him. "As I said to you earlier, Dr. Weirick forfeited all rights to human law and mercy the moment he polluted his own soul that way. What he did wasn't an accident, like what happened with your classmates – it was a deliberate act of evil. He was no innocent, and you shouldn't blame yourself for the consequences of his actions."

"So what are you saying, it's okay for me to kill people now?" Buffy demanded, finally looking up to glare at the British guy.

"No, not at all, definitely not," Wesley shook his head immediately. "It's been proven time and time again, throughout the Council's history, that a homicidal Slayer ends up having to be put down like a diseased animal in order to stop her from killing people. Where do you think the urban legend of Jack the Ripper truly originated from? That's why it's a Watcher's job to do the things a Slayer can't – to kill her human adversaries, whenever that's absolutely necessary. In order to prevent her from going mad from the guilt, so to speak."

"WHAT?!" Willow and Buffy yelped. Jesse found his own voice joining theirs, as they all stared at the Watcher in shocked amazement.

"It's something they train us for at the Academy," Wesley admitted, moving towards the kitchenette of the condo.

"And you're _**okay**_ with doing something like that?" Willow demanded in disbelief.

"Not really, no," Wesley replied, putting away some things into the various drawers. "But just like my colleagues, I've sworn an oath to protect this fragile world we live in, and that means having to do... what other people can't. What they shouldn't have to." The British guy turned and looked in his direction, and Willow's. "You two live long enough, you'll learn that for yourselves."

"But –" Willow started to argue.

"The Fourth of July, 1976. All of you hadn't even been born back then. But I can still remember watching the telly that day as a child, witnessing the bicentennial anniversary of your country's declaration of independence from the Crown," Wesley interrupted, a faraway look in his eyes. "As I recall, there were wild celebrations here, throughout the colonies – and a large international fleet of sailing ships gathered in New York Harbor, during that particular Independence Day. Quite the memorable occasion, yes."

The librarian paused. "It wasn't until after I became the Watcher for Miss Summers that I learned the world could very easily have ended that day, if Bernard Crowley – the Watcher for the Slayer of that generation, a girl named Nikki Wood – if he hadn't killed a coven of evil witches and warlocks which had gathered near the harbor. A coven that was planning to sacrifice every living soul aboard that fleet of ships, in order to bring about Armageddon."

"What?" Jesse demanded, feeling horrified. Out of the corner of her eye, he saw Willow and Buffy looking just like he felt –

"It wasn't an act that Mr. Crowley felt should be carried out by the Chosen One. Oh, it's possible Miss Wood might not have gone completely mental afterwards, had she done the deed herself – she had a three-year-old son, after all, and she might have rationalized it as justifiable homicide necessary to protect her offspring. But her Watcher preferred not to take the chance. The High Council later agreed with his judgment call, and helped cover up all the murders," Wesley said with a slight shrug.

"That's just –" he started to say, shaking his head.

"What, Mr. McNally? Abhorrent? Evil? Wrong?" the English guy interrupted, with a serious expression on his face. "As I mentioned in the library earlier this morning, my charge's sacred calling isn't a game of any sort. People _**die**_ during a war, which is exactly what this is. You wanted to be part of the battle against the forces of darkness right from the start, even though I tried my best to persuade you otherwise. Well –" He spread his hands slightly. "How do you like it so far?"

"That's enough!" Buffy said angrily, throwing off her blanket. Jesse was semi-stunned as Slay-gal came over to his side and said to Wesley, "More than, even. Think I can't tell what you're up to, Wes? Well, you're _**not**_ making me get rid of my friends, in order to turn me into a 'proper' Slayer! Never gonna happen!" she shouted.

"Uh..." he stammered, staring at the petite girl alongside him. "Um, Buffy –"

"Feeling better, then?" Wes asked, ignoring him and staring at the Buffinator.

"Why, you manipulative – you did that on purpose!" Buffy's eyes went wide with realization as she glared heatedly. "Everything you said just now, it, it was to make me snap out of it – to get over feeling responsible for Dr. Weirick's death! Of all the lousy, no-good –"

Jesse interrupted, "Buffy? Could ya let go of my hand? Slayer strength, kinda crushing it!"

"OH MY GOD!" the Slayer immediately released him, looking mortified. "Are, are you okay?"

"I think so," he groaned slightly.

"Lemme see," Willow came over and examined his left hand. "Uh, yeah – no broken bones or anything, I'm pretty sure."

"Jesse, I, I'm really sorry," Buffy apologized, a stricken look on her face. "Can I, y'know, do anything to make up for it?"

"Nothing to make up for," Jesse said, shaking his hand and wincing before focusing back on Buffy. "Just doin' my part for the team, you know – whether that's Slayer stress relief, or something else."

"And here I thought that making dumb jokes was Xander's job," Willow grinned, before her eyes widened and she looked at him in dismay. "Wait a minute! Where's Xander?" She looked around wildly. "Oh my God – no, please, don't tell me we just –"

"Yup, we did. We just left him there at the zoo. Him and Cordelia," Buffy looked stunned, and unable to believe it herself. "Plus those other four possessed kids! Well, former, but still!"

"I'm calling Xander's house right now!" Willow yelped, heading for the Watcher's phone on the nearby table.

"Well, the odds are Mr. Harris will be there; he would most likely have gone home after releasing Miss Chase and the others from their confinement. But what if he's not?" Wesley asked quietly, causing her to screech to a halt. "And if his parents ask you why you believe he's missing, what exactly do you intend to say?"

"And, uh, let's not forget how earlier tonight Cordy tried her best to make Xan, um... you know," Jesse said, feeling his face grow warm. "So – could be that they want to be alone right now, without any interruptions. For whatever reason." Silence. "I'm just saying."

"Ewwww," both girls said in unison, looking disgusted over those visuals. Memories. Whatever.

"Yes, well – Mr. McNally does raise a valid point, albeit in a somewhat crass way," the Watcher frowned. "Ah, all things considered – perhaps you'd best leave well enough alone for tonight, Miss Rosenberg. Talk to Mr. Harris at school first thing tomorrow morning, before classes begin."

"And if he's not there?" Willow now looked worried all over again.

{ _Check to see whether him and Cordy went back to the Sunnydale Motor Inn and got all fleshy together, I guess,_ } Jesse thought to himself sadly, before collapsing tiredly down onto the couch.

* * *

 **4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

David Chase was worried about a lot of things. His marriage. His business. Even his freedom. But most of all, he was worried about his daughter!

Ever since Alexander had come to the house earlier today, asking where Cordelia was – he'd become extremely anxious, once he'd realized that his little girl was missing in action. Urgent inquiries of the school principal – and really, that Bob Flutie guy needed to either shape up or ship out, too many 'incidents' had taken place at the school during his watch lately – had yielded zero information.

Well, other than the fact that Cordelia had left the school for lunch with four other students, and never come back –

{ _Maybe it's nothing, and I'm just overreacting,_ } David thought to himself, exchanging a concerned look with his wife before she looked out the window to see if the limousine had arrived yet. Which it hadn't. { _According to Lupe, Alexander found Cordelia and Ronald's bringing her home, instead of taking her to the hospital or whatever. But still, after what I learned last night –_ }

To be honest, he _**still**_ found it very hard to believe everything that his wife and daughter had discussed the previous evening. All right, yes, he'd witnessed firsthand Alexander's – ability, for want of a better word. But true psychic phenomena? Prophecies? Oracles? Seers? He'd laughed at such things all his adult life –

No. He'd openly _**scoffed**_ at them. And his attitude had threatened to tear his family apart; David got that now. He was just lucky that Julia was too damn stubborn to leave him, and that she didn't want their daughter to be the product of a broken home.

{ _Kinda weird, though. Because my little princess succeeded in doing something within thirty seconds that I completely failed to do over the past five months,_ } he thought to himself slowly. { _Namely, get Julia to accept Alexander as her boyfriend. Women!_ }

The reasons why were simply too hard to wrap his head around, though. After all, the concept that Alexander might have been destined to break Cordelia's heart – well, he'd seen for himself how Tony's son was willing to risk his own life for her. And as for the possibility that the Harris boy would eventually become his son-in-law, not to mention the father of his grandchildren –

{ _Well, I guess that's something I wouldn't necessarily object to, for more reasons than one. But it's totally up to Cordelia – and even though I still can't see her as anything other than my little girl, I suppose Julia's right. She's growing up fast, and it's time to start thinking about who my daughter could eventually end up with! Hrmm. Perhaps I should consider giving Alexander the shovel speech, some point soon?_ }

"They're here!" Julia suddenly yelped, distracting him from his thoughts. David came over to the window and sure enough, the lights of the limousine could be seen coming up the drive from the front gates of the mansion.

"Yes, I see them. Now, Julia, you have to promise me not to overreact, understand?" he told her sternly. "I mean, we don't know for sure exactly what's going on yet –"

"Oh, please, David! Have you _**completely**_ forgotten what it's like to be sixteen?!" Julia interrupted, sending him a withering look. "Our daughter almost certainly lost all her friends today, thanks to her choice of boyfriend! And yes, fine, I'm not going to complain about the Harris boy hanging around her anymore – not after what I learned last night, anyway. But it's going to take a while before everything goes back to normal in Cordelia's life; you mark my words about that. And in case it hasn't occurred to you, _**our**_ lives are going to be affected by her choice of boyfriend as well!"

"What? What are you talking about?" he asked in confusion.

Julia exhaled in exasperation, another mannerism Cordelia had obviously inherited from her. "Haven't you wondered what the Kendall's and the White's and the Breckenridge's and everyone else at the country club will say about this? The Harris family aren't exactly paupers, granted – but they're hardly members of Sunnydale's elite, either! The people you do business with every day will start looking at you oddly, the longer those kids are together. And eventually, whispers of the Chase family dabbling with the riff-raff might begin. And then – well, you can see where I'm going with this, can't you?"

"You're assuming, of course, that Cordelia and Alexander will be together long enough for that to be an issue," David replied, while privately acknowledging that his wife probably had a point about all that.

"Auggh! You still can't believe in something if you can't see it or stroke it or smell it or smoke it, can you?" Julia asked him in annoyance, as they moved towards the front door. "They _**will**_ be together long enough, David; that Harris boy – no, I really ought to start calling him Alexander, like you do – he's going to marry our little girl in roughly five years' time. I'll see to it personally if I have to, because Cordelia's other path in life is _**not**_ an option! But I'm fairly sure that won't be necessary; she's already fallen hopelessly in love with him, after all."

"Are you sure?" David asked, as he opened the door and waited for her to exit the mansion.

"Positive," Julia said, before she regally swept out over the threshold. He took a moment to admire her rear end as she did so – and good grief, where on earth had something like that come from? He was almost acting like a horny teenager himself –

"Cordelia?!" Julia called out, sounding worried as he followed her outside. David saw the chauffeur quickly scramble out of the driver's seat to open the rear left door of the limo –

{ _She's safe, thank goodness,_ } David thought to himself in immediate relief, as his daughter emerged from the vehicle. But relief quickly turned into concern when he saw the vacant, confused look on Cordelia's face. That concern only grew worse after Alexander got out of the limo as well – good heavens, the boy had a black eye and a split lip, he looked like he'd been in a bar room brawl or something! { _What's going on here? Where the heck have those two been tonight, for God's sake?_ }

"This isn't a dream," David heard Cordelia say, before she turned to look at her boyfriend. "This is real, isn't it?"

"Yeah, Cor. I'm afraid so," Alexander nodded, wincing slightly.

"You mean, I actually – I ate – I hit you – I even tried to – oh ye gods, this is _**not**_ happening **!**!" the brunette yelled at the top of her voice, before she fell to her knees on the nearby grass and started vomiting.

Both he and Julia raced over there at once, but Alexander was already holding Cordelia's hair up and constantly murmuring "It's okay, it's okay," as his little girl continued to eject the contents of her stomach onto the mansion's front lawn. David made a mental note to tell the gardener to clean up the mess tomorrow, but right now – priorities!

"What happened to her?" Julia demanded, before gesturing to Alexander to move aside. The male teen quickly let Cordelia's mother take over holding her hair and what-not, before Tony's son straightened up.

"Well?" he asked simply, waiting for Alexander to answer.

The boy initially averted his eyes – the action was something instinctive, he could tell – but then Alexander met his gaze with an effort of will. "It wasn't her fault, Mr. Chase. Please, don't punish Cordy for this, she didn't mean to –"

"No, stop! Go back to the beginning, Alexander. I get the feeling this will be a fairly long and complicated story," David interrupted. "So start off from the start, and work your way to the end."

"Uh – okay." He could see Alexander gathering his thoughts before he said, "I started looking for Cordelia after I left here, earlier this afternoon. And when I found her – she, uh, she wasn't exactly herself."

"Meaning?"

"Not sure how to explain it," Alexander frowned, looking away. "Um, Cordy said something about eating a lot of raw meat earlier today – so, so, it's probably a good thing she's throwing up right now, otherwise you'd probably have to take her to the hospital to get her stomach pumped or whatever. And, and, she was hanging with these bullies from school –"

"Bullies? Wait – Cordelia said something just now about hitting you," David interrupted, inspecting the boy's bruises. He felt more concerned than ever as he asked, "Did _**she**_ cause those injuries?"

"Uh, kinda. But, ah, extenuating circumstances. We sorta ran into those, um, gang members from a few months back, the ones who killed all those frat boys that night. Pretty sure Cordelia didn't mean for me to get hurt," Alexander shrugged. "Which I'm not, not really. I mean, this is practically nothing –"

"When I was in the Marines, son, I took part in some bar fights. And you may not be seriously hurt, but those injuries aren't 'practically nothing,' either," he said, even as Cordelia started vomiting even louder. Wincing, David added, "Go on."

"Well, um, we ended up in a few places – like the Sunnydale Motor Inn – and then we kinda broke into the Sunnydale Zoo. Eventually I managed to get Cordelia to snap out of it, the bullies ditched us, we left the zoo and then I called your house for Ronald here to come and pick up your daughter," Alexander said, gesturing towards the chauffeur.

"It's true, sir, that I collected Miss Chase and Mr. Harris on South Marion Drive, not far from the Sunnydale Zoo. Anything else, you'd have to take this young man's word for it," the chauffeur said to him deferentially. "Although I'm inclined to believe his story, as I couldn't help but notice your daughter was acting very confused, and clinging to her boyfriend very tightly inside the car; as if she was afraid he was going to vanish into thin air, or some such thing."

"I see. All right, thank you, Ronald – and that'll be all for tonight. And I trust I don't need to ask you to keep tonight's events confidential?" David asked, raising an eyebrow.

"What events, Mr. Chase? I'm sorry, but I can't quite recall what you're talking about, sir. Old age must be playing tricks on my memory, I'm afraid," the British man said regretfully.

"You're a good man, Ronald. And I'm afraid I'm starting to become forgetful as well – that bonus I was intending to give you last month for loyal service, it completely slipped my mind. But don't worry – it'll be in your bank account, first thing in the morning," he promised the hired help.

"That's very kind of you, sir. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll just go park the limousine in the garage alongside the other vehicles. Good night, Mr. Chase," Ronald nodded respectfully.

"Hey, thanks for getting us here so fast, by the way," Alexander called out, as the chauffeur turned to look at him. "Even if you can't, like, remember that anymore."

"As you say, young sir. And you're welcome," Ronald nodded to the boy, before getting into the limo and driving off.

David focused back on his daughter's – boyfriend. { _Heh, might take a while for me to get used to thinking of Tony's son that way._ } "Please level with me, Alexander. In your opinion, did Cordelia go off the deep end today because her entire social circle rejected her?"

"NO!" Cordelia suddenly scrambled up off her knees, wiping her lips clean of puke, and then she attached herself to Alexander's side like a human barnacle or something. "Daddy, that had _**nothing**_ to do with this!"

"Are you sure? Peer pressure can be a horrible thing, Cordelia," Julia said, and David saw that she was observing how their daughter was acting – just like he was. "Please, tell us the truth. Were your friends accepting of Alexander as your choice of significant other?"

"Okay, so they weren't – apart from Aura, maybe. Well, sorta. But that doesn't mean anything!" Cordelia insisted, letting go of Alexander and moving away from him slightly.

"Then why did you do everything you did, earlier today?" he asked simply. "What other explanation is there?"

His daughter looked trapped, before Alexander said to her, "Uh, honey – I know you went off-campus for lunch today with Tor, Kyle, Heidi and Rhonda. So – well, is it possible someone might have slipped something into your food or drink, maybe? I –"

"NO! Don't try to give me a lame out like that, Xander! Don't you get it? I knew exactly what I was doing, I can still remember everything! Everything I did to you –" She choked up, as Alexander quickly embraced her. "Oh, God, how can you even stand to _**look**_ at me right now?!"

"Because you're Cordelia Chase," he barely managed to hear the boy whisper in her ear. "One and only. Seriously, sweetheart, I promise – it's gonna be okay, somehow. Eventually. Everything's gonna work out all right in the end."

"You really are a complete Dork," she sniffed.

"Your dork."

"And don't you forget it!"

"How could I possibly do that?" Harris smirked at her, which caused his daughter to smile, wipe away the tears and calm down.

"Well, for your own good, you better not ever figure it out!" Cordelia said firmly, before kissing Alexander softly on the cheek – and hugging him tightly enough for him to start wheezing.

"Okay, I'd say that's enough!" Julia said, coming forward and separating the two teens. "Cordelia, inside the house. Now! And Alexander, I owe you an apology for my actions over the past eight years. So please tell your parents I'd like them to come over here for dinner one night soon, and to bring you with them, of course."

"Uh, sure. Whatever you want, Mrs. Chase," Alexander looked confused at Julia's actions. Not that David could blame the young man for that; it _**was**_ rather hard to reconcile his wife's seemingly-abrupt change of attitude towards the boy and his family without knowing the why's and wherefore's.

"G'night, Doofus," Cordelia smiled at her boyfriend again, before giving him another quick hug.

"See you tomorrow, Cor," Alexander smiled back at her, before Julia hustled their daughter away. Then Tony's son turned to face him and said, "Uh, Mr. Chase, I hope you don't mind – but I sorta need to go home now, my parents are probably wondering where the heck I am –"

"Come inside the house, Alexander. You can call Tony and Jessica and explain the situation, and then I'll call for a taxi to come and take you home," David gestured for the youth to follow him.

"No, that's okay – I, um, I can walk, it's really no bother," Alexander shook his head.

"Nonsense! I insist, it's the least I can do," David told him. "Or would you prefer for Ronald to drive you over to your house? I know I just gave him the rest of the night off, but –"

"No, really, that's fine, Mr. Chase," Alexander shook his head again. "Good night, sir."

Just as the boy was about to leave, David added, "Oh, before you go, I think I should mention – ah, Cordelia told Julia and myself about the whole Oracle thing last night."

Alexander froze in his tracks, and then turned around to look at him again. David was somewhat surprised to see the cold, emotionless expression on the male teen's face as he replied, "I see. So who else knows about that, Mr. Chase?"

"No one. Why do you ask?" David inquired, suddenly getting a bad feeling about this. He hadn't meant for the boy to get defensive or anything, he was merely interested in the whole green-eyed esoteric knowledge thing –

"Because earlier tonight, Cordelia told me that you're cheating on your taxes; apparently, that's the big secret I mentioned to you a few months back," Alexander replied, as David instantly froze in horror. The Harris boy added, "And before you ask, sir, no one else knows. And they're not gonna find out from me, either. Just like I'm sure you and your wife aren't going to tell anyone anything about what I can do nowadays – right, Mr. Chase? Otherwise, well – I'd rather not think about that. Pretty sure you don't want to think about it, either."

"I wasn't trying to blackmail you, Alexander," he managed to say, somehow forcing his tongue to work. "After all, according to what Cordelia said last night – and even what you said in that hospital, all those months ago – there's a fifty-fifty chance you're going to marry my daughter, and officially join the family in a few years' time. I was only curious, that's all."

"I believe you," Alexander nodded. "And no threats intended, sir. Like I said, I don't plan on doing anything that's gonna hurt you and your family. And as for the rest of it – if Cordy and I do get married one day, it's gonna be because _**we**_ want it to happen! Not 'cause Madam Devora said that was the only option available to us, if we didn't want to die within the next ten years."

"I see," David said thickly. "I, uh, I hadn't known that part. That you were also the subject of some – prophecy."

"Not something I like to believe in, to be honest with you. G'night, Mr. Chase," Tony's son nodded at him again, and quickly took off down the drive towards the main gates of the mansion.

{ _Ye gods,_ } David thought to himself dazedly, as he watched the Oracle depart before returning inside the mansion. { _Hrmm, well, I guess there's no other choice; I'm going to have to make_ _ **sure**_ _that Alexander ends up Cordelia's husband one day. Because he's far too dangerous, otherwise!_ }

* * *

 **624 Hamilton Street, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

Morgan Shay felt like his entire world had come crashing down all around him.

{ _I don't want to die,_ } he thought to himself sadly, staring around at his bedroom. He had just been informed that he had brain cancer, an inoperable tumor of the parietal lobe. { _I'm sixteen years old, and I'm supposed to have my whole life ahead of me. I don't_ _ **want**_ _to die, damn it!_ }

Unfortunately, he didn't have a choice in the matter. His meeting with Dr. Dale Leggett of the California Institute of Neurosurgery today had confirmed that he was a terminal case. The tumor's deadly growth could be delayed with the right sort of drugs, but ultimately not prevented. He was done for, a dead man walking.

"Morgan?" his mother called out, before opening the door to his room. "Can we talk?"

"Sure, mom," he said, trying to act strong for her. "What is it?"

"I, I just... oh honey, I don't know what to say," his mother stammered, tears appearing in her eyes. "I mean, you, you, you're going to –"

"I know, mom," Morgan quickly hugged her. "I know."

"You're acting so brave about it – but I can tell you're angry and terrified," she sniffed, trying to wipe away the tears. "Ever since the day you were born, Morgan, I've known what you're thinking. And I just – this isn't –"

"Yeah," he said thickly. He wasn't the smartest guy in school for nothing; Morgan knew this was going to be a lot harder on his mother to cope with than it would be for him. No parent should outlive their offspring, and all that. "I know. It's not right, it's not fair, it... isn't any of those things. It just is what it is, mom. And I'm just sorry you're gonna have to watch me die over the next six months or so."

His mother burst into tears all over again, and he gently guided her to her bedroom before returning to his own room. { _Better get used to that, I guess. It's gonna become a pretty frequent occurrence until just before the end._ }

"What the hell do I have to show for my life?" Morgan asked rhetorically. { _Sure, grade A high school student, even taking some college classes, but so what? Is that what they're going to put on my tombstone? 'Here Lies Morgan Shay, He Was A Smart Guy'? Dammit, this sucks!_ }

"Don't beat yourself up too much, kid. 'Cause sometimes shit happens and you just gotta deal, ya know?"

Morgan whirled around in disbelief. The bedroom window was open, and a ventriloquist's dummy was sitting on the window sill. The wooden puppet then said, "By the way, leaving your bedroom window open in this town? _**Not**_ a good idea, day or night."

"I, I'm hallucinating, that's gotta be it," Morgan said to himself, shaking his head. "I've totally lost it –"

"No, you haven't. Name's Sid," the dummy interrupted, jumping down onto the floor and walking towards him. "I hunt demons. I know it's kinda unbelievable just from looking at me, but it's true. Time was I was just as human as you are now. But one day I met a really mean demon, there was a curse – and the next thing I know, I'm not me any longer. I'm stuck in – this," the dummy gestured to his wooden body.

"Huh?" Morgan gaped at him.

"Sheesh! Okay, let's take this from the top. One, you're not hallucinating." Sid rapped him on the forehead with his wooden hand, and he quickly became convinced of that. "Two, siddown on the bed. This is probably gonna take a while."

Morgan did so, becoming more and more of a believer as Sid told him the story. He learned how the demon hunter had been attacked by the Brotherhood of Seven, a group of demons who were able to assume human form for seven years at a time by harvesting human brains and hearts. How the Brotherhood had cursed their enemy, imprisoning his spirit in the body of a ventriloquist's dummy. And how the only way for Sid to break the curse, was to slay all seven members of the Brotherhood.

"I just killed number six at that hospital you were at today, and I happened to overhear the doc's prognosis. Sorry, kid, tough break," the dummy moved its eyelids up and down. "But anyway, I heard you wondering what you've got to show for your life just now. That's why I've got an offer for you; help me track down the last Brotherhood of Seven demon, and you'll have accomplished something worthwhile – in terms of making this world a better place, once that evil bastard is dealt with."

"And if I don't?" Morgan asked, cocking his head slightly. "Help you, I mean?"

Sid couldn't shrug, his stiff wooden body wasn't capable of it. Nonetheless, the inference was clear as the demon hunter replied, "Then we part company right now, no hard feelings and all that. I'll try to track him down myself – even though that's gonna be complicated, what with me looking like this. Six decades of experience talking. And just so you know, that demon's current seven years are almost up, so he's gonna kill a couple of high school students – they need that type – and take their heart and brain, respectively. And once that happens..."

"That's why you came to me," Morgan realized. "You need me for, uh, for camouflage, right? You can't just wander around the school by yourself, someone would see you. And you think your demon's masquerading as one of my classmates, don't you? That's the other reason you came to me; I take you with me to school during the day, you can scope out the situation. See if anyone's got superhuman strength, or the ability to do magic. Am I wrong or what?"

"Nope, you're not wrong. What the hell, kid, you're damn sharp; lot smarter than most other people I've worked with over the past sixty years, hunting those damn demons," Sid replied. "And yup, the Brotherhood of Seven impersonates teenagers. It's what they do. So, are you in or what?"

"Wait, wait a minute," Morgan paused, feeling a slight headache inside his skull before forcing himself to ignore it. "Say I help you. And say you succeed. What happens after you kill the last demon, and the curse is lifted? You original body must have –"

"Decomposed long ago. Yeah, I'll die. But I'm okay with that, kid, seriously. I'll finally be free; and I've already lived far longer than any other demon hunter I know of," Sid said. Then he stared at Morgan blankly. "So, you wanna be my partner on this or not?"

Morgan sat back on the bed and considered the wooden puppet before him. Did he want to do this?

Oh, he believed Sid's story; it was too crazy _**not**_ to be true. And it also explained quite a few things about Sunnydale that otherwise defied explanation. But still, was that a good enough reason to spend his last days assisting the demon hunter in his quest? Wouldn't he be better off spending his few remaining months indulging in the pleasures of the flesh – like good food, hard liquor, and expensive hookers in Las Vegas?

{ _A hedonistic sybarite? Is_ _ **that**_ _what I want to be remembered as?_ } Morgan asked himself, glancing back at the dummy. { _Here's a guy whose sole aim is to kill demons, someone who's spent_ _ **decades**_ _trying to save people from the monsters._ _ **He's**_ _got something to show for his life. Can I say the same?_ }

"What the hell, I'm in," Morgan said, before he could change his mind. "I mean, what exactly do I have to lose at this point?"

"Attaboy! Okay, partner, let's shake on it!" Sid held out his arm, and feeling bemused, Morgan shook the demon hunter's wooden hand. "All right, now let's start strategizing. You got any idea who the Brotherhood of Seven demon might actually be? Any students at your school who act – well, y'know, weird? Who've been involved in any deaths, maybe?"

Morgan didn't even have to think about it. "Well, there's Xander Harris..."

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Hey everyone, I hope you enjoyed the latest chapter of the story! Thanks for reading; and not much else to say this time around, except that I've recently learned how a birthday celebration for a 70-year-old acquaintance can be quite surprising, in terms of what happens at that sort of party. :) Anyway, review junkie that I am, I look forward to hearing what you all thought of this instalment, so don't be shy about typing into that text box below!


	28. Consequences, Part II

**Chapter Twenty-eight: Consequences, Part II**

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **March 7** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Morgan felt kinda weird lugging the case containing Sid to school. He noticed a few people staring at him curiously, as he stopped at one of the lunch benches and took the wooden dummy out of the container; but luckily, those people quickly lost interest and continued on their way. Well, if anyone asked, he could always say he wanted to get in some practice for the school talent show next month –

He put Sid on his knee and stared at all the students walking towards the main building, giving the demon hunter a chance to look around by turning slightly every so often. { _Okay, just be calm and relax. Xander will probably come by at any moment, and if he is the demon –_ }

"There he is," Morgan whispered into Sid's ear, as he leaned down. "That's Xander Harris, the one in the Hawaiian shirt."

"Damn. It's not him," Sid whispered back, staring at the male teen in question.

"What makes you so sure?" Morgan asked, still whispering – and hoping that no one noticed him talking to his puppet.

"The bruises. The cut lip. None of the Brotherhood of Seven demons can pull that off convincingly," Sid replied, as Morgan got up off the bench and turned the wooden dummy to face him. "On account of they don't need to. Sorry, kid, but our prime suspect just got shit-canned."

{ _Well, crap,_ } Morgan thought to himself despondently, before whispering, "So what now?"

"Nothing else for it. Gonna have to check out the rest of the kids in this school, one by one," Sid replied, as Morgan got up and began to put him back in the case. "Hey, don't stress too much, partner; we still got roughly a month left. We'll find that demon before it kills again."

{ _I hope so,_ } Morgan mused, as he began to head towards the school building himself. { _I really do hope so._ }

* * *

 **Main corridor, Sunnydale High**

 **A while later**

Cordelia could tell that just about everyone was watching her as she walked towards the library, but she kept her back straight and her head held high, her visible disdain for the gawkers enough to make some turn away and get on with whatever they were doing.

{ _This is going to take some getting used to,_ } she acknowledged to herself, witnessing various people stare and whisper amongst themselves as she passed them by. { _But like Xander said last night, it's gonna be okay, eventually. And given all the weird crap that happens in Sunnydale, hopefully 'eventually' will take place sooner rather than later!_ }

She held onto that belief desperately, as right now, it was one of the few things that were helping to keep her sane. When she thought of everything she'd done recently, possessed or otherwise –

{ _No. Don't go there,_ } Cordelia told herself firmly. { _Don't even think –_ }

"Cordelia," Tor suddenly appeared in front of her, with Heidi at his side. "Got a few for us to talk?"

"What's there to talk about?" Cordelia demanded, coming to a halt and glaring at them both. She did _**not**_ want to deal with either of these two right now. Or ever. Didn't want to deal with Kyle or Rhonda either. All four of them were no longer her Pack.

Only her mate – no, dammit, her _**boyfriend**_ – still qualified for that sort of description.

"What's there to talk about?! How about the fact that Tor fucked me last night – after you ordered him to do it – and I might have ended up in the family way, if I hadn't done that Yuzpe regimen thing afterwards?" Heidi scowled at her.

"Well, you didn't exactly refuse to take part, did you? In fact – I distinctly recall you grabbing Tor by his convenient carrying handle and starting to give him a blowjob, just before I left you and Rhonda alone with your men," Cordelia replied, looking unfazed. "Where are those two, anyway?"

"Haven't seen 'em today," Tor replied, placing an arm around his girlfriend. He smirked slightly as he asked, "So, where's Xan?"

"None of your business," Cordelia scowled at him. "And just so it's clear, from now on? You four are gonna stay the hell away from me and my boyfriend. Or else you'll regret it. Understood?"

"Yeah, whatever. Now, how about some explanations?" Heidi demanded, moving closer to Tor. "I mean, we actually ate a ton of raw meat and fell asleep in that park, before you ordered us to help you hunt for Harris – and then we ended up having an _**orgy**_ at the Sunnydale Motor Inn? Not to mention that, that craziness at the zoo, afterwards? That sort of thing doesn't just happen, Cordelia!"

"Snake-worshipping killer frat boys. Gang members who get high on PCP before murdering people. A laryngitis epidemic. Even a fake teacher who nearly killed the guy I love, after the real one ended up decapitated. That the sort of thing you're referring to which doesn't just happen, Heidi? Because in this town, it _**does**_ ," Cordelia told her coldly. "And compared to all that? Yesterday's events were almost normal! So get over it, okay? I don't care how, but deal. Like, find some hypnotist to put you under and make you forget everything, if you want. Or else go see a shrink –"

"Become a vegetarian?" Tor interjected smoothly.

"Have safe sex with your girlfriend, propose to her after high school, have half a dozen kids with her, and live happily ever after. I honestly don't care," she told him acidly.

"That the plan you have in mind for your own guy?" Heidi asked, sharing a quick look with Tor and starting to smile.

"Like I said. None of your business," Cordelia replied. "So, are we done here?"

"Just one more thing," Hauer drawled.

"WHAT?!" she demanded snappishly.

"You open to the possibility of a foursome with me, Heigh-ho and Xan one day?" Tor asked with a perfectly straight face.

Cordelia's eyes almost bulged out in shock, but before she could say anything – Heidi was dragging her boyfriend away, muttering about Hauer having to make do with jerking off for quite a while.

{ _That was just – too weird,_ } she thought to herself, resuming her trek to the library. Cordelia barely even noticed the other students around her, she was so deep in thought. { _And me take part in something like_ _ **that**_ _? Ewww. Brain bleach, please!_ }

Cordelia eventually arrived at her destination, and barged in through the double doors. Seeing her boyfriend seated at the table surrounded by the Slayer, Nerd Girl and Stalker Boy, she said to him, "We need to talk."

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **A while earlier**

Xander could tell that a lot of people were watching him as he got off the school bus, but he did his best to ignore all the stares and whispers. Hopefully, they were just gossiping about his facial injuries and not about – other stuff.

{ _Not damn likely,_ } he ruefully acknowledged to himself, as he saw Jonathan Levinson and Marcie Ross smile in his direction and give him a discreet thumbs-up. { _But a guy can always hope, right?_ }

Well, no, probably not in this case. Dammit, he didn't need this sort of attention right now! If he was smart, he would have simply broken it off with Cordelia last night – again – and then –

{ _No. Not an option,_ } Xander reluctantly admitted to himself, as he walked up the steps and headed for the main building. { _Cordy was majorly traumatized. If I'd tried anything like that, God only knows what she mighta done! Besides, no point trying to deny it anymore; I really care about my girlfriend. A lot. Maybe even lo–_ }

He cut off that thought before it was fully formed. After last night's... bedroom antics, Xander knew he didn't want to think about that yet; mostly because he couldn't be totally sure whether he was thinking with his dick where his girl was concerned, but also because he needed to talk with Cordelia about – everything.

Like, how much of last night had been her, and how much had been the Alpha hyena spirit possessing her.

"Oh, Xander, thank God you're okay!" a red-haired missile abruptly launched herself into his arms, as he entered the front doors of the school. It then started to babble, "I'msosorryweleftyoubehindandIdidn'tevennoticeyouweren'thereI'materriblehorriblefriend-"

"Breathe, Will!" he managed to interrupt, gently disengaging from Willow's embrace with a slight smirk. "Remember, we talked about this?" Xander glanced around and saw Jesse smirking as well. "Back me up here, bud. What's the magic word?"

"Hyperventilation?" his best friend asked innocently. "Y'know, pretty sure I've got a paper bag in my backpack somewhere –"

"Jesse!" Willow snapped, looking outraged.

"You feeling all right?" Buffy asked him in a subdued tone, interrupting the banter.

"I'll live. And thinkin' I should be the one asking _**you**_ that question, Buff," Xander replied, looking her over. "How you holdin' up?"

"Like you said. I'll live," the Slayer nodded. She looked around, and he finally noticed the audience that was more or less blatantly staring at the four of them. Buffy then said to the crowd, "Do any of you people actually have lives, or not?"

Looking embarrassed, the audience quickly broke up, and Xander subsequently followed his friends to the library. Huh – kinda odd how, over the past couple of months, the place had started to feel like the Watchtower or something to his psyche.

{ _Well, Slayer Central anyway,_ } he thought to himself, as Wesley appeared out of his private office. { _We're more the Scooby Gang than the Justice League, after all._ }

"Ah, Mr. Harris, there are you are. Glad to see you're alright, and, ah, my apologies for last night's – forgetfulness," Wesley said, looking uncomfortable. "I assume that there were no problems with Miss Chase and the other members of her pack, after the rest of us left?"

"Naw. Tor, Heidi, Kyle and Rhonda ran off straightaway, soon as I ruptured that barrier thing. I took Cordy home afterwards: her family chauffeur came up and picked us up outside the zoo," he replied succinctly.

"Is she okay?" Jesse asked at once, the concern clearly evident on his face.

"Uh, well, Cordy started throwing up nonstop as soon as we got home and she realized she wasn't dreaming; but apart from that, yeah, I'd say so," Xander shrugged slightly, as he sat down at the main table. "My girl's one tough lahini and all."

"Lahini?" Buffy asked in confusion.

"One of the she-wolves in Kipling's Jungle Book, as I recall. And yes, it's a fairly apt comparison, all things considered. Well, as long as you're sure she's all right," Wesley nodded once before heading back to his office. "If you'll all excuse me, then, I've got things to do."

"What's his deal?" Buffy watched the Watcher retreat back inside his private office.

"Could be Wes doesn't wanna be around me right now, y'know – he'd prefer not to be reminded of what he saw at the Sunnydale Motor Inn last night," Xander shrugged, and then he noticed everyone staring at him. "I'm just saying..."

Just then the doors burst open, and Cordelia came storming into the library. "We need to talk."

"Here we go," Willow muttered, turning away.

Xander ignored her. "I know," he said to his girlfriend. "Here, or in private?"

"What do you think?" Cordelia growled, before grabbing him by the hand and leading up the stairs and into the stacks. Once they were alone she inspected his face and said simply, "You look like hell. And it's my fault."

"No it's not," he flatly disagreed. "Seriously, honey, I know you believe that; but I don't! And since I'm the injured party here, my opinion is the only one that matters. Betcha dinner at the fanciest restaurant in town that the Sunnydale District Court would agree with me, too."

"Oh, you – schmuck!" Cordelia said angrily. "Here I am trying to take responsibility for my actions, and you have to act like a –"

"A Knight of Ghosts and Shadows, with that whole 'steel blade wrapped in a cloak of magic and darkness' deal?" he interrupted, looking her directly in the eye. "Yup, I do."

"You actually remember that?! We were only what, six? Nearly seven?" she asked in amazement, calming down a little.

"Pretty much," he shrugged. "Sir Alexander Harris, the Black Knight, at your service. My sword arm and spurs are yours to command, milady."

Cordelia giggled slightly. "That's Queen C to you, Dork."

"Ah!" He got down on one knee, bending his head forward to stare at the floor. "I humbly beg your forgiveness for my terribly rude behavior, Your Majesty! How can I possibly make it up to you?"

"Like I said, we need to talk. So get up already," she commanded, the humor fading from her voice. "Seriously, Xander, we _**have**_ to talk about what happened last night. About what I – what I did to you."

Xander got up, becoming serious. "Okay. You wanna talk, talk. Like how much of all that was you, and how much was Alphie the Hyena Girl – but no blaming yourself for what happened while you were possessed! Understand? When you knocked me out on the street, and then tried to do the mattress mambo inside that motel room? It. Was. Not. Your. Fault. And again, since I was the victim, my opinion is the only one that counts."

"It's not that simple, Dumbass!" she growled at him.

"Well, I'm _**making**_ it that simple!" he growled back at her.

"Dammit, Xander, I tried to get you to impregnate me!" Cordelia shouted. "Don't you get it? I attempted to _**rape**_ you! And if it wasn't my fault, then whose fault was it?!"

"Wasn't rape," Xander shook his head at once. "Because I wanted it almost as much as you did, even though I knew I shouldn't have. So please don't use that word again, okay? And as for whose fault it was, my vote goes to that dead zookeeper guy. He was the one who originally drew that sacred circle in the Hyena House, after all! You heard what Wes said last night before he took Buffy home, didn't you?"

"I – yeah," Cordelia shook her head slightly. "I did. And I know the whole possession thing was pretty much an accident, sure. Still, that doesn't help much. Because I can remember doing what I did, rationalizing everything I did, _**wanting**_ everything I did – and not giving a damn about the consequences!"

Her eyes suddenly filled with tears. "Oh dear God, Xander – what if I'd _**succeeded**_ in getting what I wanted from you? If Buffy and the others hadn't come in when they did – I, I would have – we'd be – I'd have been responsible for cursing my baby right from the start, with that sort of taint on its soul –"

"Hey! Hey, listen to me," Xander said urgently, grabbing Cordelia into a tight hug. "That never happened, okay? We didn't go that far, and you're still, uh, Sister Inviolata of the Order of Immaculate Chastity. Or whatever they called it in that _Cannonball Run_ movie!"

"If that's your idea of comforting me, Doofus, it sucks," Cordy sniffed, even though she tightened her grip on him significantly.

"Yeah, yeah, not the world's greatest comfortador; I know that," he replied. "But like you said last night – I'm yours, in every way that counts. Even though you deserve better than me, of course."

"Hey! What's _**that**_ supposed to mean?" Cordelia said angrily, letting go and moving away from him.

Xander sighed. "The Oracle thing is never gonna go away, Cor. Remember what I said few months back, how I couldn't live in the spotlight with you? Honey, I know how important popularity is to you! And you shouldn't have had to give that up, just to be in the shadows with me –"

"Isn't that supposed to be _**my**_ choice?" she interrupted fiercely.

"Well, yeah, but it's not just that," he admitted. "Truth is, I'm constantly afraid that that Drusilla vamp will somehow figure out what Buffy and I might pull off in a couple months' time, and then all of the monsters around here will come after us to make _**sure**_ that doesn't happen! And if we're together, you might get killed along with me –"

"No. Listen up, Dimwit – you are _**not**_ allowed to die!" his girlfriend interrupted again, glaring at him and grabbing his shirt. "Do you hear me, Harris? Hell with that crap! If I have to, I'll handcuff you to my bed for that entire month to make _**sure**_ you don't get killed by that undead psycho!"

"Uh..." Xander gulped, the images in his mind suddenly becoming pornographic. { _Oh, man, if something like that happens? No_ _ **way**_ _will I be able to last until we've been dating for at least a year for the sex to take place, that rule she came up with during her birthday!_ }

"And so what if all my friends abandoned me after I chose you over popularity? I can always find new friends, and high school's gonna be over soon enough, anyway – like two years and change," Cordelia continued angrily. "Besides, Daddy's always liked you, and now that Mother no longer thinks that you're gonna get me killed –"

"WHAT?!" he yelped in disbelief.

Cordy quickly filled him in what Mrs. Chase had told her and her father the other night; and when she was done, Xander just stared at her in disbelief. "Okay, I know we're living in Sunnydale and all, but this is just totally –"

"Unbelievable? Hey, you should know how Mother's always had a major thing for psychics and predicting the future, already! Like I told you last summer, she's a true believer in that stuff – even if she hasn't always picked the right people to listen to. And while I'm not condoning her attitude towards you or anything, truth is – my mother was just trying to protect me from a lethal threat she thought was real," Cordelia shrugged. "Guess I can't really blame her for that."

"Yeah, uh, neither can I," Xander shook his head. "Wow. So, so, I suppose that means me and my parents really will be coming to your place for dinner, sometime soon?"

"Yeah. Oh, hey! It'll give you a chance to finally wear that shirt I got you for your birthday," she smiled at him victoriously.

"Oh, joy. Every silver lining has gotta have its cloud, I almost forgot," he grumbled.

"Jerk. You're hopeless!" Cordelia glared at him again.

"I am what I am, honey. As in fish gotta swim, birds gotta fly," Xander said philosophically, shaking his head.

"Yeah, well, just for that? I'm gonna see to it that you learn to appreciate fashion, even if it's the last thing I ever do! So I'm taking you to the mall, first thing tomorrow morning. We're gonna spend most of Saturday shopping – 'cause I'm getting you a brand new wardrobe!" she said firmly. "Newsflash, but no boyfriend of mine is allowed to wear those rags you call 'clothes' – so start getting used to that rule!"

{ _Oh, God, I'm doomed,_ } Xander groaned. { _Neptune's middle fin, tomorrow is_ _ **totally**_ _gonna suck. Well, unless I can convince Cordy to model some lingerie for me at Victoria's Secret, or something? Hrmm... oh, yeah, the possibilities!_ }

* * *

 **Spike's warehouse lair, Sunnydale**

 **March 11** **th** **, 1997**

Spike watched as Dru paced – stalked – around the terrified blood bag being held captive. He didn't know why she had insisted on bringing their evening meal back to the lair instead of just having a quick bite at the high school, but he figured there had to be some reason for it –

Or if there wasn't, and his sire was just acting on a whim or whatever, that was all right with him too.

"This isn't right," Drusilla suddenly hissed, knocking the mortal's glasses off as she swiped at his face with her nails. Three long, bloody furrows appeared on the git's cheek, as he started to whimper in pain. Then Dru shouted, "You're not s'posed to be here!"

"Okay, fine. Please, just let me go," the pathetic coward begged her. "I promise I won't say anything to anyone about this, if you do! I promise, I –"

"Who the bloody hell are you, anyway?" Spike demanded, interrupting the sickening display.

"Uh, Bob Flutie. I, I'm the principal at Sunnydale High," the arsehole semi-stammered, looking at him now. "Look, this has obviously been some sorta mistake, I – whatever it is you think I've done, I –"

"Oh, I'd reckon you haven't done anything, mate," Spike said cheerfully, morphing into his demon face and enjoying the captive's scream of fear. "You're just – convenient. Midnight snack, as it were. Shall we dig in, then, luv?" he then asked his sire.

"No. Not s'posed to be like this. The naughty girl. Those other four," Dru babbled crazily, starting to pull and tug at her hair. "Shoulda eaten 'im right up, they should 'ave. Wild things – and the big ol' fuddy-duddy's not 'ere, no, he isn't! Why isn't he here?" his sire suddenly demanded of the captive.

"I, I'm sorry, I, I don't know who you're talking about," Flutie said fearfully.

"There, there, pet – it's alright," Spike said soothingly to his beloved, while sending a brief glare at the prisoner. He calmed Dru down, and then asked her, "So if we're not gonna drink up – whaddya wanna do with 'im, luv? Torture? Pretty sure there's an iron poker around 'ere somewhere, which we could shove up his arse –"

"WHAT?!" Flutie yelled, instantly looking like he was about to piss his pants. "No, look, there's, there's no need for anything like that! We, we can work this out like, like reasonable –"

Disgusted and annoyed, Spike hit him in the face to shut him up. Unfortunately, in his anger, he hit the mortal a bit too hard, and knocked him unconscious – which only made Drusilla even more upset. { _Bloody hell, what else could go wrong tonight?_ }

"KILL THEM ALL!" a loud voice demanded, as the warehouse was abruptly invaded.

Spike cursed, as he noticed Absalom leading a bunch of vamps into the lair. { _I bleedin'_ _ **had**_ _to ask!_ }

The battle began, as vampires on both sides brought out stakes or whatever, and the dust started flying. Spike cursed again as soon as he noticed the Three. He'd heard of those members of the Order of Aurelius; he shoulda guessed they'd eventually show up to avenge the Master's death! Damn shitty luck, that was – but then again, maybe it wasn't exactly just random chance?

Yeah. He shoulda kept his mouth shut that night; never should have told Absalom about him and Dru offing Heinrich. How else could that effin' ponce have recruited the Three to his banner? That trio were like bloody samurai, all worried about honor and sacrifice and all that guff!

Then Spike saw Absalom hold up a kuhkri, a long, curved knife. The enemy vampire yelled out, "For the Master. For his pain. For his betrayal!"

"NO!" Spike yelled back, fighting his way through the crowd towards Drusilla, but already knowing he'd never get there in time.

The female vampire just stood there, watching Absalom come at her, with the black vampire aiming for her neck. She seemed fascinated by – something, and looked to be a proverbial sitting duck –

Until the moment just before Absalom swung, and then Dru simply wasn't there anymore.

"What-?" Absalom started to say, before he exploded into dust. Along with the typical scream of the blood demon escaping its confinement within the corpse. Drusilla then lowered her stake, smiling dreamily.

"That's my girl!" Spike crowed victoriously, as he changed direction and started to take on the Three.

They were tough bastards, but then so was he. Luckily, a couple of the minions proved to be not entirely useless, as Lucius and Dalton provided a much-needed distraction when the trio of armor-clad vampires threatened to overwhelm him –

Whoosh! One of the Three, the one with the missing eye, succumbed to an attack coming from his blind side. Spike grabbed the dusted wanker's ax, and quickly beheaded one of the bloke's mates – the one who smelled like Turkish cigarettes. He was just about to take on the last member of the Three, when his beloved yelled out, "Spoike, he's gettin' away!"

{ _Wot? Who-?_ } Spike then cursed again, seeing that Flutie bloke about to do a runner out the front door. He raised the ax, and hurled it at the blood bag's back –

 _ **WHUMP!**_

{ _Well, that's that taken care of,_ } Spike thought to himself in satisfaction, ignoring the dead body on the floor and taking in the scene of battle. With three of their four heavy hitters taken out, the blasted sods who'd _**dared**_ to invade his home had obviously lost heart. Even though they kept on fighting, Spike knew that his minions had started to smell blood and were pressing the enemy hard.

"Naughty boy," he heard Drusilla say not far away, looking at the last of the Three. "C'mere, 'n look at me."

"Traitor," the last member of the Three cursed her. "Betrayer of the Master, defiler of the Order! You and William the Bloody shall not survive this night!" With that, he rushed forward – but again, moving with super-speed, Drusilla simply wasn't there when the stupid berk tried to stake her.

Spike smirked, and using Absalom's kuhkri, quickly slit the enemy's throat after jumping onto him from behind. The last of the Three staggered off to the side and gurgled, lukewarm blood spraying out of his neck. He didn't do so for long, however, before Spike finished him off – and that whistling, screaming explosion of dust took his place.

"Flamin' hell," Spike cursed, before landing on his feet and spitting out the ashes that gotten into his mouth. Then he smiled, seeing the last of the enemy vampires being dispatched by his minions. "On second thoughts, yeah; this is more like it!"

He grabbed Drusilla and kissed her fiercely, the undead equivalent of adrenaline rushing through his system. "You all right, luv?"

She gave him that same mischievous smile she'd given him aboard the _Quintessa_ that night. "Posturing and chest-beating. I told you, Spoike, remember how I told you?"

"Yeah, that ya did, luv. You surely did!" Spike replied, giving thanks to whatever dark gods were granting him their favor. "Now, let's celebrate!"

They left the other vampires behind to take care of the clean-up, and quickly retired to their bedroom.

Well. Just another Tuesday night on the Hellmouth, more or less –

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry for the minor delay in getting the latest chapter out, but then I've been kinda busy with work and grading roughly two dozen undergrad press releases this weekend, so, yeah. Anyway, this more or less wraps up the "The Pack" plot arc, and I'll be moving on to other things next. Oh, and mustn't forget, thanks as always for reading and reviewing and/or sending feedback! 'Tis most appreciated.


	29. Now, Don't Tell Me There's Nothing To Do

**Chapter Twenty-nine: Now, Don't Tell Me There's Nothing To Do**

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **March 14** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Jesse was headed towards the library, when a female hand grabbed him and pulled him into an empty classroom. He barely had time to notice Aura shutting the door, before the cheerleader fixed him with a steely gaze. "We need to talk."

Her words instantly reminded him of Cordelia storming into the library last week, and saying those exact same words to his best friend. "About what?" he asked somewhat nervously.

"About Cordelia, of course!" Aura said impatiently. "How's she doing? Is she happy? Is Harris treating her right?"

Jesse blinked. "Uh... and you care, why?"

Aura glared at him for a moment, but then she exhaled and replied, "Okay, I guess maybe I sorta deserved that. But don't push your luck, McNally! And answer my questions!"

"Well, in order – she's doing okay as far as I know, yes, and yes," Jesse replied, slowly edging backwards and away from his companion. { _Wow – she sure seems upset about something!_ }

"Well, good," Aura replied uncertainly. "I'm glad." Hesitating a moment, she then started heading for the classroom door.

"Why?" Jesse asked, unable to help himself.

"Why what?" Aura demanded, stopping and turning around again. "Why am I glad? Or why am I even talking to you about this?"

"Both, I guess," he shrugged. "Aura – you've been giving Cordy the cold shoulder along with the rest of your friends, ever since she and Xan hooked up together. So, why the concern now?"

"You wouldn't understand. You're a guy, plus you're nobody," the White girl told him frankly, which stung more than a little. "But in a nutshell – we were friends for years, and I like to think that Cordelia and I had a real connection. Even though, after she decided to commit suicide as far as her social life was concerned? I had to distance myself from her straightaway. It was nothing personal –"

"Friendship is always personal, Aura," Jesse interrupted, staring at her. "Guessing it's just not as important to you as popularity, huh?"

 _ **WHAP!**_

"Ow! What was that for?!" he rubbed his left cheek in annoyance, where the girl had slapped him.

"Being a smartass, and a jerk," Aura semi-snarled at him. "Because you don't even know me, McNally. You don't understand me, or why I have to do the things I do! So keep the wisecracks to yourself in the future, okay?"

"Whatever. And what's that supposed to mean? What future?"

"Well, we need to meet again every so often, duh!" Aura snapped at him. "I mean, it has to be in person, so that there's no phone or email trail to follow. I want to make _**sure**_ Harris is taking good care of Cordelia, comprendez? That's why we're gonna be conferencing roughly once a week, for you to keep me updated about that!"

"We are?" Jesse echoed in confusion.

"Auuuggghhhh," Aura groaned. "Yes, Dummy! We are!"

"I honestly don't get it," he replied, now feeling even more confused than ever. "I mean, if you want to make sure Cordelia is okay, why not talk to her directly? Why drag _**me**_ into your personal drama?"

The glare his female companion sent him could have melted glass and desiccated the bodies of unwary freshmen everywhere. "You really _**are**_ that thick, aren't you? Newsflash, but I can't talk to Cordelia, not anymore – you think she'd be willing to chat with someone who abandoned her the way I did? Besides, my friends would find out if I tried to do the whole reconciliation dealie; and if I approached Harris about this, Cordelia would learn about it almost immediately. Plus, as if I could trust Summers or Rosenberg to tell _**me**_ the truth! So – you're it," Aura said distastefully.

"Well, gee. Now I feel all special," he commented snidely.

"Just _ **don't**_ let anyone know what I'm up to," she warned him, as Jesse began to get a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. "'Cause your father works for my mother's insurance company, remember?"

"Was that a threat?" he asked at once, starting to glare at Aura. "Like, if I don't play ball, you're gonna try to get my dad fired?"

"Take it any way you want, McNally. I honestly don't care, just as long as you do what I tell you and keep your mouth shut," she replied acidly. "See you next week."

{ _Bitch,_ } Jesse thought to himself venomously, as the popular girl left the room. But since he was a teenage guy, he couldn't help admiring Aura's ass as she swiftly departed. { _Huh, maybe one day – ACK! No! I just gave up on Cordelia, I'm not gonna start chasing after someone else who practically hates me!_ }

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **Later that day**

Buffy noticed Xander and Cordelia looking at each other oddly, but quickly dismissed it from her thoughts. She had other things to occupy her mind right now.

Killing Dr. Weirick last week – she was beginning to come to grips with that, slowly. Despite how everyone kept telling her it wasn't her fault, she couldn't help feeling responsible for the zookeeper's gruesome demise. Sure, Weirick been possessed, and he'd been trying to kill her, and it was the hyenas that had actually torn him to pieces – but still.

It was really hard _**not**_ to feel responsible, when she'd literally thrown the guy to his death.

And if that wasn't enough to try to deal with, her former romantic interest Owen Thurman – she'd spotted him and his new girlfriend Lysette Torchio in the school parking lot, earlier this morning. And Owen had definitely changed a _**lot**_ since the last time she'd seen him in that cemetery! She'd rejected him because she didn't want him to be subjected to the dangerous side of life in Sunnydale –

But apparently that hadn't stopped him, as she'd watched a leather jacket-wearing Owen kiss Lysette alongside his green 1977 Mustang 387.

{ _Didn't take him long to find someone else, did it?_ } she asked herself, with more than a slight trace of bitterness. { _And where the hell did he get the money for a car like that? I kinda doubt his parents got it for him as a birthday present, or whatever. I just hope he didn't rob a convenience store or something like that, to come up with the cash!_ } Buffy shuddered.

"You okay, Buff?" Willow's concerned voice made her turn in the redhead's direction. "You were looking all pensive, like."

"Just thinking," she replied.

"About what?" Xander asked, as he and his girlfriend came closer to join in on the conversation.

"Is it that zookeeper guy?" Cordelia asked, with her usual lack of tact.

"Cordy!" Willow said warningly.

"Actually, no," Buffy admitted. "I was thinking about Owen, actually."

"Are you still hung up on him? Don't be," the former queen bee of the school told her. "You probably heard how that guy's gotten a couple of tattoos and hooked up with Lysette Torchio, right? I'm guessing it's 'cause Owen's decided that he likes to live life in the fast lane, and Lysette is a major car freak."

{ _Yeah, I'd heard that. And speaking of tattoos..._ } Buffy was tempted to ask Cordelia when she'd gotten her own tattoo, the one on her back – the 'tramp stamp', as Willow had sneeringly called it that night. But then she reconsidered – it wasn't the type of thing to bring up in casual conversation with a girl who wasn't exactly her friend. Not to mention one who'd threatened to kill her, while she'd been possessed that night.

"Oh! While we're on the subject of cars – Xander, when are we ever gonna get a glimpse of that Shelby which, which Cordelia mentioned the other day?" Willow asked, staring at her former crush.

"I dunno, Will. Next time you come over to the house, I guess," he shrugged.

"It _**is**_ a nice set of wheels. Even if it's just your typical boy's toy," Cordelia said teasingly, flashing her boyfriend a thousand watt smile.

"Sounds a lot like my dad's pet project, that Hemi Cuda he drives around," Buffy said musingly. "Lousy mileage, but it managed to get us from Las Vegas to Los Angeles in almost record time."

"You and your father were in Nevada at some point?" Xander asked, looking curiously.

"Yup. It was after I'd burned down the school gym at Hemery. I sorta had to get out of town, and my friend Pike gave me a lift on his way there," she shrugged slightly. "And when my father brought me back, that was when I learned that my parents were getting divorced."

The uncomfortable silence was broken by Jesse entering the library. "Guys! Have you heard? The cops just found Principal Flutie's body, down near the docks! And it's being labeled as a 'PCP gang attack', even though there was no sign of a barbecue fork stab wound to the neck or whatever..."

{ _Sorry, Principal Flutie. But it's not like I hadn't guessed this was coming,_ } Buffy thought to herself regretfully. { _Lived in this town long enough now to know that once someone goes missing that way, for that long, they're either dead – or worse._ }

"Poor guy. So, who do you think they're gonna get to take over as the school commandant?" Xander asked, looking around.

"Just as long as it isn't the vice-principal, I'm happy," Willow said, looking annoyed. "I swear, ever since Ms. Calendar quit her job and left town? Mr. Snyder has been leaning on _**me**_ to teach her classes!"

"But – he can't do that! Can he? No offense, Willow – but even though you probably know the material even better than Computer Science Lady, you're not a qualified teacher," Buffy said in confusion.

"Pretty sure that wouldn't matter to the Snyde-man, and maybe not even to the school board," Jesse shook his head. "Gotta do what you can to make ends meet, and it's not like lotsa people don't vanish around here every single day."

"Terrific," Willow grumbled. "Well, hopefully the new principal will hire someone to teach Computer Science, after he – or she – gets appointed. If they don't, I'm gonna demand that they start paying me for services rendered!"

"Good idea. And if Vice-Principal Snyder gives you any grief, threaten to sue the school over it. That's the one thing that type is always afraid of, y'know; I mean, you should have _**seen**_ Principal Flutie's face that day when Xander's parents arrived on campus, and I gave them the idea of hiring the same law firm Daddy uses!" Cordelia smirked.

"So, Xander – your parents still don't know what you can do, right? The whole Oracle thing, I mean?" Buffy asked, turning to stare at him.

"Nope –" he started to say, before Willow cut him off.

"Xander, _**how**_ have you managed to conceal it from them this long?" the redhead asked curiously. "I mean, at some point – well, you must have looked your mom and dad in the eye at least once, right?"

"Yeah. But either there's nothing for me to say to 'em, or they've never said anything to me about it," Oracle Boy frowned. Buffy stared at him as he added, "Thing is, Will, I'm suspecting I've already done it with my dad; back when he broke his ankle, y'see – which was before I actually knew what was going on. I heard how my father mentioned something to Cordy's father in the hospital that night, after my mom and I left; apparently I said that the alcohol would break him just before he tripped over that empty beer bottle, or something like that."

"And your mother?" Cordelia raised an eyebrow at her boyfriend.

Xander was saved from answering the question when Wesley walked into the library through the double doors. Buffy frowned; her Watcher definitely had 'something' face. "What's up, Wes?"

"I, uh, I've just come from a meeting with the Deputy Headmaster," he replied, making her roll her eyes at the British-ism. "Apparently, I've been put in charge of directing the school talent show, a few weeks from now."

"Oh, _**good!**_ See, I was planning to take part in that. Do something in the love song ouvre. Like 'The Greatest Love of All', maybe," Cordelia said eagerly.

"Uh, Cordelia..." Jesse said hesitantly. "Not that you wouldn't stand out from everyone else doing a musical solo like that, it's not even a question, but..." he trailed off.

"But what, McNally?" the fashion queen demanded, her eyes narrowing.

"Cordy, you can't sing," Willow told her bluntly. "No offense, but it's true! Heck, the only time you've _**ever**_ managed to carry a tune properly is when you and Xander did that duet during seventh grade, remember? Back when we were all crazy about Glee Club, and you two were forced to do that rendition of 'Red Rubber Ball' together!"

"Oh, yeah, I remember that! Man, how did that song by Cyrkle go – oh! And I think it's gonna be alright. Yeah, the worst is over now. The mornin' sun is shinin' like a red rubber ball," Jesse sang eagerly.

Buffy couldn't help smirking to herself, as she saw Cordelia glare at the guy and Xander look acutely embarrassed. So she said, "Okay, well, here's a thought – why don't you and your boyfriend do that sort of duet again?"

"Excuse me?" Xander demanded heatedly. "You want me to risk doing the Oracle thing in front of the whole school? Buffy, are you _**trying**_ to get me to spill the big secret to everyone?"

"Okay, fine – geez! It was just a thought," Buffy scowled at him.

"Ah, well, let's move on," Wes said uncomfortably. "Um, uh, Miss Rosenberg – as I recall, you mentioned something yesterday about scanning some books into the library's computer system?"

"Yeah, I was thinking of setting up some kind of demon database. Y'know, just type something into the computer and be able to search for it with a few mouse clicks. Instead of spending hours looking through a ton of books written in languages I can't even pronounce, let alone understand," Willow shrugged.

"Don't underestimate yourself, Will. You learned Sumerian and Akkadian pretty darn fast, remember?" Xander told her with a smile.

"Yes, but be that as it may, I-I'm not sure that's a good idea," Wes frowned.

"Why not?" Cordelia demanded. "It's not against some weird Watcher rule, is it?"

"No, it's not a matter of violating procedure, but rather – a, a security risk," Wes said slowly. He then added, "Some of the information in my tomes and scrolls would be – well, deadly, in the wrong hands."

"C'mon, Wes, seriously?" Buffy asked snarkily. "Something someone wrote down in a musty old book centuries ago is _**that**_ dangerous?"

Wes frowned again, and went into his office. When he came out again, he was holding a musty old book in his hands. "Do you see this?"

"Yeah," she replied, eyeing the book. "Why do you ask?"

"During the Dark Ages, demons were oftentimes trapped in sacred volumes by the Catholic Church. They remained imprisoned within the book, harmless, unless the pages were read aloud. What I'm holding in my hands is, in fact, the prison of Moloch, the Corrupter – a very deadly and seductive demon. In the early fifteenth century he drew young men and women to him with promises of love, power, and knowledge. Then he killed them," Wes said coldly. "So does that answer your question, Miss Summers? Do you want something like this –" He tapped on the demon's picture on the front cover, "– unleashed upon the world?"

"Well, obviously not," Willow spoke up, much to her embarrassed relief. "But Wesley, how come you even have that book in the first place?"

"Because of a mistake, actually. This volume should never even have been sent here – that's why I'm planning to fire a rocket up the arse of whatever idiot working in Room 42 of the British Museum, who was responsible for this bloody cock-up!" he said angrily.

"I just love it when you act all authoritative, you man, you!" Buffy smirked at him.

"Uh, I... was that a compliment? I still have trouble understanding you sometimes," Wes blinked in her direction.

"Whatever! Look, I still want to try out for the Sunnydale High talent show – and if me singing really isn't the way to go..." Cordelia trailed off.

"It isn't," Willow and Jesse said at the same time.

Cordelia stared at her boyfriend, and he shrugged. "Honey, I adore you and fully support you in achieving your goals, please don't ever doubt that."

"BUT?" the brunette demanded in a frosty tone.

"But, uh, if this is gonna be Honesty Time – well, the phrase 'it's illegal to sing off-key in North Carolina' sorta does come to mind," Xander admitted.

"Bite me, Skeezoid!" the ex-cheerleader growled at him, before her eyes went wide. Then Cordelia turned around and ran out of the library, with Xander quickly chasing after her.

"What's her deal?" Buffy asked curiously, staring at the still-swinging double doors.

"She's Cordelia Chase," Willow replied, as if that explained everything; before thankfully changing the subject.

* * *

 **Main corridor, Sunnydale High**

 **A few moments later**

"Cordy! C'mon, please, stop!" Xander called out, running after his girlfriend. { _Man, she must_ _ **really**_ _be pissed right now!_ } "Cordelia?"

"WHAT?!" she demanded angrily, finally coming to a halt and turning around to glare at him. "What do you want, Harris? Because instead of supporting me just now, you –"

"Tact is just coddling the weak. You told me that once, that night outside the Bronze – remember?" he interrupted her. "That's why I told you the truth just now. Because I _**know**_ that you're strong enough to deal with the facts, Cor. And that you don't ever want to hear 'comforting bullshit' from me. Or anyone else."

Cordelia stared silently at him for nearly five seconds. Then her shoulders slumped and she nodded with obvious reluctance. "Yeah, I remember. And I get it. And I am. And you're right, I don't." She paused. "Sorry I said that to you just now, Dork. And I know our situation is totally different now from last summer, the last time I told you to bite me that way, but it was almost as if I..."

"I understand," Xander replied, nodding after she trailed off. "No need to explain. But seriously, Cordelia; I'd like to know what's _**really**_ troubling you. Is it the dreams?"

She stiffened, and instantly, he knew that he'd hit the nail right on the head. Because she had confided in him about that recently, and he'd just known it was going to be a problem. "Yeah, I thought as much. The nightmares haven't gone away, have they? Cor –"

"They're not nightmares," she interrupted him softly. "Because whenever I dream about all that stuff – I don't dream about that stomach-churning lunchtime, or what happened later at the zoo. I dream about me and you, alone in that motel room. I dream about getting naked while you're tied to that bed. I dream about climbing on top of you, and making out with you. I dream about the blowjob. I dream about the moment I was just about to give myself to you – and then I wake up, feeling freaked out and horny as hell. And that scares the crap out of me, Xander. The fact that I _**enjoy**_ those dreams, instead of being repulsed by them."

Xander just stood there, shocked and stunned. "You do? Really? Uh – I don't know what to say, sweetheart, I-I didn't know..."

"Do you think all that has turned me into a slut?" she asked, looking concerned. "I mean, yeah, even before the whole Hyena thing happened, I used to dream about you that way, but –"

"You _**did?!**_ " he interrupted, feeling utterly stunned.

"Don't read too much into it, Doofus. 'Cause girls have hormones the same way guys do, and unfortunately, I can't control my own endocrine system. Life would be _**so**_ much easier if I could," she confessed. Then Cordelia sighed. "Have I become some sort of hopeless skank, or, or slutty 'ho?"

"No, of course not! No way," he told her firmly, grabbing her into a tight hug. One that she enthusiastically returned. "Cordelia Chase is not, and never will be, anything like that!" Xander added firmly, looking her directly in the eye. "Listen, you went through something really traumatic – and quite frankly, if it had been me –"

"It almost was," she interrupted, "and not from lack of trying on my part, remember?"

"Yeah, but the point is – I _**didn't**_ end up Possessed Guy, and part of your Pack," Xander kept going. "If I had, I'm sure I wouldn't have been able to deal even half as well as you have!" He frowned. "And I still say it's weird how Kyle and Rhonda just totally disappeared that way. No one's seen either of them, since that night at the zoo?"

"I don't know, I haven't asked," Cordelia shook her head. "Who knows? Maybe those two got killed by some stray vampire or demon on their way home. Or maybe they ran away from Sunnyhell, in order to cope with having sex under those circumstances. Either way, I don't really care. Just like I don't really care about Tor and Heidi, and whatever they decide to do next in their lives."

"I hear ya, sweetheart, loud and clear," he nodded. "But getting back on topic, you went through something really huge. And I'm no shrink, but I've heard Willow's dad talk about his patients often enough to know that you don't simply get over something like that in a few short days! It's gonna take time. But you're the strongest person I know, and so you'll get there. And sooner, rather than later!"

Xander should have expected it, but he didn't. She kissed him immediately. And the kiss gradually grew more and more intense, as they both gave in to their ever-present teen lust. But after many steamy moments, Cordelia let go of his lips and moved out of his embrace, panting wildly.

"That was – oddly illuminating," she said, after getting her breath back.

"Illuminating, how?" he asked, somewhat breathless himself.

"I just realized how easy it'd be for us to end up in the back seat of my car and have sex, the next time we're making out in Lovers Lane," she told him bluntly. "And I also realized I'm not ready for us to go quite that far. Not yet, anyway."

"I know, Cor. Seriously, it's okay," he smiled, as he curled an arm around his girlfriend and kissed her softly on the cheek. "No rush on my part, either – hard as that may be to believe."

"Maybe in a few months' time, when I take you with me to my parents' summer house at Lake Cachuma," she said musingly. "I don't want to wait for _ever_ , after all!"

"Really? Gee. So what happened to the plan of us dating for at least a year, before getting intimate that way?" Xander asked innocently, before he ducked to avoid an incoming dope slap to the head.

"You're slowing down, honey – ow!" He rubbed his cranium thanks to her second successful attempt, smiling at the outraged expression on Cordelia's face. "Now, there's my girl!"

"Oh, you-!"

* * *

 **Skipton Castle, North Yorkshire**

 **March 18** **th** **, 1997**

{ _Good grief,_ } Rupert Giles thought to himself, listening to the other members of the Council debating about what to do regarding the Sunnydale situation. { _It's either endless shouting or constant insults; I swear, the Council knows no other way. Maybe Janna was right, and I should have just headed for the Continent with her today!_ }

He knew that that hadn't really been an option, though. His father was ill, and so he needed to be here to represent the Progressive faction in the old man's place. Not only to make sure the Traditionalists, headed by Wyndam-Pryce's father, wouldn't make a complete dog's breakfast of things; but also to make certain that the Conservatives – in other words, Quentin and the Head of the Council, Sir Nigel Ambrose-Bellairs – didn't go too far with their 'the end justify the means' philosophy.

{ _I suppose it's a good thing how Great-Aunt Lavinia and Great-Aunt Sophronia decided to drop by, and help look after Father while he's indisposed,_ } Giles mused to himself, even as he continued to monitor the debate within the castle's secret meeting room. { _I wasn't expecting them to do so, granted, but it's always nice to have family present during times like this. Hang on, what's this-?_ }

"I still say we should flood that vampire-infested town with Council personnel as soon as possible," Roger Wyndam-Pryce demanded, glaring at almost everyone seated at the table. "May isn't that far away, you know! And if we don't get a move on soon –"

"If we do that now, we risk tipping off the undead that something important is happening, or will happen in the near future. We've all read your son's reports on what's transpired in Sunnydale since the Chosen One arrived there, Roger," Quentin interrupted smoothly. "And I for one do not wish to risk William the Bloody, or his precognitive sire, getting any – unwelcome ideas."

"Conservative in name and conservative in nature, Quentin?" Dame Agatha Harkness asked, smiling slightly. Giles did his best to hide a wince as the old woman added, "I mean, it's not just the vampires you don't want to get unwelcome ideas, is it? It must truly annoy you that the current Chosen One appears to have surrounded herself with a small band of civilian helpers, reading between the lines of Wesley's reports. It must truly annoy Roger and his Traditionalists as well, no doubt."

"Now see here-!" Wyndam-Pryce bristled angrily.

"Enough of this," the deep, echoing voice of Sir Nigel cut him off at once. "Such things are not up for discussion during this meeting. Kindly confine yourselves to the matter at hand."

"A question, then," Giles spoke up, as everyone turned to look at him. "What of the green-eyed Oracle? Or the Nexus of Chaos, o-or the Defender of Mankind, or whatever label you'd care to use for the man. W-why hasn't he been identified yet? As Roger just pointed out, May isn't all that far away – therefore, shouldn't finding him also be a priority?"

"No. Because to paraphrase an old saying which has now passed into the vulgar argot: Do not meddle in the affairs of gods, nor of Oracles, for thou art exceedingly tasty with tomato sauce," Evelyn Carnahan – the Devon Coven Representative – replied warningly.

"Meaning?" both Quentin and Wyndam-Pryce demanded at the same time.

"One of our people – a lovely but somewhat naïve young woman named Althenea – did something extremely foolish recently. Namely, trying to identify the Oracle in question with her psychic powers. A non-corporeal entity identifying itself as the Goddess of War, Prophecy and Death immediately possessed her, warning the rest of the Coven never to try to do that again. Althenea was subsequently released by that so-called goddess with nothing but empty holes in her head, where her eyes used to be – and she died roughly a day later." Ms. Carnahan now had a deep, frigid look on her face.

"Well, I-I suppose that answers the question, yes," Giles nodded, feeling somewhat ill about that. Most of the others looked as if they were feeling rather ill about it as well.

"In light of these new facts, I hereby order a temporary moratorium on all efforts to identify the Oracle in question," Sir Nigel commanded, sending a warning look to everyone who had a seat at the table. "Additionally, our forces shall not enter the vicinity of the California Hellmouth for at least another month. We shall meet on a weekly basis to reassess the situation, and alter our plans accordingly if need be. That will be all."

He nodded to the Deputy Head of the Council, and Quentin tapped his spherical gavel on the wooden block sitting on the table before him. "Meeting adjourned."

{ _And thank heavens for that,_ } Rupert thought to himself, wondering whether he would have time to catch up with Janna after speaking with his father at the family home in Bath. { _I could do with a short holiday abroad, no doubt about it!_ }

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** So, yeah, I totally skipped over the events of "I, Robot - You, Jane" in this story, but there was a reason for that; namely, the butterfly effect from everything that's happened in the fic so far. Such as Wes being present in Sunnydale instead of Giles, and Jenny/Janna having long since departed the Hellmouth and quit the spy biz. (Besides, I didn't really want to rehash that part of the series, as Moloch wasn't exactly my favourite season one villain!)

Also, I just wanted to thank Ironbear for suggesting using the lyrics to "Red Rubber Ball" (insert generic disclaimer on how the song belongs to whatever legal entity owns it) and as always, thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing/sending feedback of some kind! Please keep it coming...


	30. Battlegrounds

**Chapter Thirty: Battlegrounds**

 **Shadyhill Cemetery, Sunnydale**

 **March 21** **st** **, 1997**

* * *

Buffy pulled herself up and over the wall of the cemetery, quickly jumping down to the ground. She then withdrew her stake, and started her evening patrol.

She was – better, now. More or less back to her old self, anyway. That thing with Dr. Weirick – she hadn't forgotten what had happened, the horrible way the zookeeper had died, but enough time had passed that she'd been able to put things into some sort of perspective. It had helped that she'd been kept sufficiently busy with school and Slaying and her friends that she hadn't been able to drive herself nuts obsessing about it, over the past couple of weeks.

{ _And thank God Mom never found out. She mighta wigged out completely,_ } Buffy thought to herself, before frowning. { _Wait – what is that?_ } She sensed something, not too far away. Slowly, she approached a small mausoleum. The Slayer raised her stake and jumped around the corner, swinging down to strike at whatever was there.

"ACK! NO!" Jesse yelped and jumped back, raising his cross as if to ward off a vampire. "Buffy?"

"Jesse," she replied sternly, withdrawing the stake. "What are you doing here?"

"Ughhh!" He stared at her in shock, before calming down a little. "I, uh, something stupid; I came looking for you."

"Why?" she demanded in annoyance.

"You're my friend. I worry about you," Jesse replied, finally getting himself under control. "Plus, you met that Spike guy at the Bronze last night, remember? And didn't ya say he threatened to kill you?"

"Yeah, but he's a vampire. They all say that," Buffy said impatiently.

"True 'nuff," a British-accented male voice said, not far away. "But then, not all of us 'ave got the stones ta be able to back up the tough guy talk with action."

Almost without thinking Buffy grabbed Jesse, opened the door to the mausoleum, shoved him inside and yelled, "Stay!" before yanking the door closed and surging forward to meet her undead opponent.

"Lucky fer me, I do!" Spike growled, and they began to engage in a fight to the death.

He avoided the stake and hit her in the jaw, sending her stumbling back. He tried to follow up with a front kick to the stomach, but she somehow managed to regain her balance and avoid Spike's leg, lowering her wooden weapon – and coming close up with a punishing left hook to the face that sent him stumbling back.

"You've been a pain in my ass for way too long, Spike. Ever since that first night outside the Bronze," Buffy snarled at him, shoving the stake into the back of her pants.

"Feeling's entirely mutual, Slayer," he replied, starting to circle around her. "Yer the proverbial thorn in my bloody side, you are! But now it's time to –"

Buffy attacked again, coming forward and punching him in the chest; making him stumble backwards again, and not letting him finish his sentence. { _Undead asshole loves the sound of his own voice too much!_ } She then punched said asshole in the mouth, before grabbing Spike by the neck and shoving him into a corner column of the small mausoleum.

Spike looked dazed and tried to regain his balance, but he never got the chance because she wasted no time punching him in the face again and knocking him flat on his back.

"Say good night, vampi –" Buffy started to say, withdrawing her stake again and moving in for the kill.

"Now, now! Hands off my Spoike, dearie," another British-accented voice, a female one, called out. Buffy looked up to see that nutsack Drusilla holding Jesse hostage, her clawed hand around the throat. "Or this one ends up my newest baby boy!"

Buffy instantly grabbed Spike. Lifting him up and putting a stake to his chest, with her arm around his throat. "You want this Billy Idol wannabe not to fit into an ashtray, let Jesse go right now!"

"Oy! That bastard stole the look from me, not th' other way around!" Spike growled.

But Buffy wasn't even listening. Neither was Little Miss Sanity Fair, by the looks of it; she was just staring at Jesse and – smiling. "Le chevalier blanc qui vise à aider la demoiselle en détresse," the crazy bloodsucker said, still smiling that hungry-looking smile of hers.

"What does that mean?" Buffy demanded, jabbing the tip of the stake harder into Spike's muscular chest.

"Watch it, Slayer!" Spike snarled, looking infuriated by his own helplessness. Then he added, "And it's French for 'the white knight who seeks to help the damsel in distress.' Don't they teach you bloody kids _**anything**_ at school these days?"

She ignored the insult, focusing back on Drusilla. "Listen up, Insane-o Girl. Here's the deal – you let Jesse go, and your boy toy here doesn't end up a pile of dust. So get your hands off of my friend!"

"Rip his bleedin' throat open, luv – urkkkk!" Spike gurgled, as Buffy increased the pressure of her arm around his throat. She could sense the male vampire trying to find his feet, and ruthlessly kicked the back of his right knee, forcing Spike to keep balancing his weight on his heels.

"Try that again and I dust you straightaway, you undead leech," she threatened him. "No matter what your crazy girlfriend does, or doesn't do!"

"Ohhhh, how awful," Drusilla said, abruptly releasing Jesse and moving away. "Miss Edith says you'll be sorr-ee," the female vampire sing-songed, before scowling at her.

"Jesse, get over here!" Buffy called out, and he lost no time in obeying her orders. At the same time, using every ounce of Slayer strength she had, Buffy shoved Spike away from her.

He literally _**crashed**_ into Drusilla, sending both of them falling to the ground. In an instant, though, the platinum-haired vampire was back on his feet and lifting Loony Girl up with him. "Another time, Slayer!" the undead asshole growled, before he and Drusilla vanished into the darkness of the night.

"Now, that was kinda hairy," Jesse commented, before lowering the cross he'd been brandishing at the vampires.

"I know. You could have gotten killed just now," she told him disapprovingly.

"And so could you, Buff!" Off her confused look, Jesse added, "Hey, think about it; if I hadn't been here, two of them against one of you? I don't like the odds of one of 'em getting lucky, and feasting on your neck!"

"Or maybe I'd have finished Spike off when I had the chance, and then taken out that nutty _**thing**_ who sired him way back when," Buffy told him roughly. "Look, Jesse, I know you just want to help –"

"No, not so much that; I just don't want you to die," he interrupted her. "It really is that simple for me, Buffy. You're my friend, and I don't want to mourn at your grave anytime soon. Bad enough how I can't be sure that Xander and Cordelia won't die for another five years, until they finally say "I do"; seriously, I don't need _**your**_ loss on top of that!"

Buffy's anger quickly left her, recalling that particular prophecy. "Still hung up on her, huh?"

"Cordelia? Uh... actually, not so much. Not anymore," he shrugged. "Her and Xan have been together long enough now that I... well, you only have to look at 'em to know they're pretty much meant to be. Insults and all," Jesse chuckled. "Besides, you've been helping to play matchmaker for Willow lately, so if she can move on from the guy she's loved since we were six years old? Long past time _**I**_ moved on from a girl who never loved me. Who barely even tolerates me, nowadays."

"That's – amazingly mature of you," Buffy quirked a small grin at him, as they started to walk off and leave the mausoleum behind.

"What can I say, Buff? We all gotta grow up sometime. And as I recall, the first day we met – you told Tor and Kyle and their girlfriends, that we had a date scheduled for Saturday night. I was just wondering, is that offer still good?"

Buffy smirked. "Why, Mr. McNally. Are you asking li'l old me out on a date tomorrow night?"

"Only if you don't get offended by the concept of being seen with me in public, and then crush me like an ant with your Slayer super-strength!"

* * *

 **Private residence, Los Angeles**

 **Late March, 1997**

Liam fixed himself a drink, and sat down on the couch to watch the Lakers game on TV. It looked to him like they were going to beat the Vancouver Grizzlies, but it would be a close contest –

Well, anyway, he figured that if his friend's favorite basketball team won, the money which Doyle had wagered on the game would enable the seer to buy something nice for his wife. Their anniversary wasn't too far away, after all.

It was times like this – when he thought of how he'd managed to help Doyle deal with being a half-Brachen demon, and saved the man's relationship with Harry from completely imploding – that Liam secretly mourned the fact that he himself was alone. That he didn't have anyone to share his life with, despite the fact that he was human now and acted as the Champion for the Powers on this plane. That nothing had ever come of his feelings for Buffy –

"Well, thank the Powers you finally wised up and started keeping some booze in this place," Whistler's familiar voice said from within the kitchen. Liam got up to see the Messenger helping himself to a bottle of Irish whiskey, before his visitor made a face and put the glass down. "Then again, maybe I spoke too soon."

"Whistler? What are you doing here?" he asked in confusion.

"Right now? Moaning that my formerly undead protégé has like zero taste for good alcohol," Whistler shrugged. Then his gaze hardened. "Plus, I got some info to relay to you. Has to do with the Sunnydale situation."

"Buffy? Is she okay? Is she –"

"She's fine. Nearly got killed last week by your two wayward children, yeah, but Blondie survived. No thanks to that kid who managed to wrangle himself a pity date out of her, later on," the agent of balance shrugged.

Liam went completely still. "Harris asked Buffy out on a date?" It wasn't out of the question, he knew, especially if that annoying brunette had broken up with him after being possessed by the Hyena spirit –

"The Oracle Guy? Naw. It was his best friend, the powerless member of your Slayer's little group," Whistler said. Then the guy started to smirk as Liam relaxed, exhaling slightly in relief. "Well, gosh, look at you. Green-eyed monster vanished pretty quickly once you heard that, huh? You don't think that piece of Chosen jailbait would be interested in anyone _**normal**_ , I take it? Eh, I wouldn't be so sure 'bout that theory, pal. The strongest relationships can take place between two people that don't seem even remotely suitable for one another, at first glance. Just ask Mr. Prophetic Warnings 'R Us, with that high-maintenance shrew of his."

"I don't get it. What's Harris got to do with anything, if he's not interested in Buffy?" Liam asked, feeling confused.

Whistler shook his head. "Like I said, you'll find out in May – maybe. And did you know he's not just another dumb ape? Well, not entirely."

"What do you mean?"

The Messenger explained how it had taken him awhile digging through the various extended family trees, but he had eventually unearthed the fact that the Oracle's maternal great-great-grandmother was the daughter of Saynday, one of the sons of Kunula – or Coyote, as he was otherwise known. Making Harris one sixty-fourth of the blood of a genuine deity. "Pretty weak claim on potential demi-godhood, sure, but still. That sorta ancestry would at least explain how he can survive the whole Oracle thing, without any lethal side-effects," Whistler shrugged.

"I see," Liam nodded. Yes, that definitely explained a lot of things he hadn't been able to understand, back in Sunnydale. "So, how does all that affect me?"

"It doesn't, at least not yet. Maybe in a few years' time it will, or maybe it won't. Depends if Harris manages to survive what's coming, thanks to the deal the Powers made with that so-called Dark Lady," Whistler replied pensively.

"If he manages to survive what's coming? I don't like the sound of that," Liam shook his head.

"Not surprised. But you've been around long enough to know how there's no such thing as certainties, right? Just lots of different possibilities."

{ _True enough, but still._ } He couldn't help feeling annoyed by Whistler's cryptic act, even though Liam knew he should have become used to it by now. "Meaning?"

Whistler exhaled. "Only reason I'm still alive today? The Powers decided to save me from being eaten by my demon relatives just after I was born, unlikely as that sounds, and they eventually made me an agent of maintaining balance in this reality. They taught me that it's not about good or evil, it's about making sure the pendulum never swings too far either way. _**That's**_ what counts; balance. Even if sometimes, that means doing things that leave a sick feeling in my gut. I know all about making the hard choices, Rat Boy. And I've _**always**_ chosen the long-tern survival of humanity, ever since the Old Ones were kicked out of this neck of the dimensional woods."

"You've been around _**that**_ long? I never knew that," Liam stared at his sponsor oddly. "Anyway, you said before that you had some information for me about the Sunnydale situation?"

"Yup. Namely, you might need to go back to that town soon. Depends on if a certain demon hunter and his longevity-challenged sidekick ever manage to get their asses in gear, regarding a shape-changing killer on the loose!"

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Auditorium, Sunnydale**

 **April 3** **rd** **, 1997**

{ _I hate Thursdays. I know Miss Summers dislikes Tuesdays a lot, but it's the Thursday afternoons which I find hardest to cope with. Well, ever since arriving in this accursed town, anyway,_ } Wesley thought to himself, watching Miss Chase prepare for her act in the upcoming talent show. He briefly gave thanks that the brunette had chosen not to sing on stage – really, the Oracle's paramour had sounded like a banshee, the one time she'd given him a demonstration of her talent in that area. Those banshees who couldn't find work and traveled the countryside making that awful racket, anyway.

At least her acting was less of a headache to witness –

"One day, I might, yes, many years from now – when I've lost my looks a little. Do not laugh." She looked towards him, striking a dramatic pose. "I mean, of course a time will come when Torvald is not – is not –" She turned towards the back of the stage and hissed, "Line!"

"Is not as devoted to me," Mr. Harris supplied helpfully.

"Right, right!" She turned back around. "When Torvald is not as devoted to me." She released a dramatically fake sob, and then turned her head back towards him. "How was that?"

"Uh, yes – quite the performance, Miss Chase," he replied. Even if, in Wesley's view, the Norwegian playwright Henrik Ibsen had to be turning over in his grave right now – what with the way this girl had just butchered the character of Nora Helmer, from _A Doll's House_!

"Ooh, yeah! I thought she was great, too," Mr. Harris said with a big smile, which only led credence to his theory that most American high school students were uncultured barbarians –

"You really mean that?" the Chase girl asked her significant other, raising an eyebrow.

"Sure! Okay, you forgot part of your lines; but that's what dress rehearsal is for, isn't it? Ironing out the bugs from the performance," the Oracle said, still smiling. "Trust me, sweetheart, you're gonna knock 'em dead tomorrow!"

{ _Well, either that; or give the audience a taste of being trapped in Purgatory for all eternity,_ } Wesley shuddered inwardly. Then he focused and said, "Uh, yes, that's the spirit. Now, Miss Campiti –"

"My name's Lisa," the black girl interrupted, adjusting her tuba as she walked on stage.

"Err, quite. I believe you're up next? Miss Chase, if you and Mr. Harris could kindly move off-stage," he asked, wishing he was practically anywhere but here.

Both teens vanished backstage, as the musician started to play. Wesley rubbed the bridge of his nose as the sounds of the tuba quickly threatened to burst his eardrums. { _Good Lord; about the only decent act I've seen so far has been that Djiemanowicz girl, the dancer –_ }

"Hey! If it isn't the great talent show director himself!" a jovial male voice impacted his thoughts as Mr. McNally, Miss Rosenberg and Miss Summers plopped themselves down into the seats close to his. "How's it going, Wes?"

"Ah, passably, I suppose. Now, what you three are doing here?" Wesley asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose again.

"Well, we sorta had to see it for ourselves," Miss Rosenberg replied.

"On account of this event has a certain reputation," Mr. McNally added.

"What sort of reputation is that?" he asked, still trying to focus on the tuba performance.

"Oh, lemme put it this way; Wes, unto every generation is born one who must run the annual talentless show. You cannot escape your destiny," Miss Summers told him with fake solemnity, which finally went past his tolerance limits for such tomfoolery!

"If you lot had any shred of decency, y'know, you would have participated; or at least helped out, somehow," Wesley glared at the trio.

Miss Summers shook her head. "Nah! I think I'll settle for your traditional role... and watch!"

"And mock!" Mr. McNally added.

"And laugh!" Miss Rosenberg chimed in, before all three of them laughed loudly. They stopped, however, when they realized he was _**not**_ amused.

"Oh-kay. I think maybe we better leave Mr. Grumpy-Pants to this business he calls a show," the Slayer tsk'ed, as the three friends arose from their seats and made their way to the back of the auditorium.

Wesley didn't pay much attention to the ensuing conversation, until he heard the new headmaster's voice say, "Real anti-social types. You need to integrate into this school, people. That's why I just found three eager new participants for the talent show!"

{ _Well. This should be interesting,_ } Wesley thought to himself, as he listened to the trio's vehement protests and pleas for mercy. He then heard Mr. Snyder say to the teenagers, "Save it for someone who cares. My predecessor, Mr. Flutie, may have gone in for all that touchy-feely relating nonsense, but he was murdered – with an ax in his back. You're in _**my**_ world now. And Sunnydale has touched and felt for the last time!"

"Can I please just say that detention is a much better – not to mention time-honored – form of punishment?" Mr. McNally's voice definitely had an annoying begging quality to it.

Mr. Snyder was obviously unwilling to bend on the matter as he replied, "You can, but it's not going to make any difference. Besides, I know the three of you will come up with wonderful acts for the entire school to watch. And mock. And laugh. At."

Wesley did his best to keep to keep the smirk off his face as the students groaned and came back to their original seats. Miss Summers sent him a pleading look for sympathy. But he had none to give, and finally gave up trying to hide his smirk. His Slayer frowned, before giving him a light slap to the shoulder. Of course, with her enhanced strength, 'light' didn't mean what she probably intended for it to mean –

{ _Ah. The tuba solo is over. Excellent,_ } Wesley realized, upon taking in the blessed silence. "Thank you very much, Miss Campiti; that went swimmingly. Uh, next!"

"This sucks," Mr. McNally protested his new fate, as his female companions made general noises of agreement.

"Oh, do stop complaining," Wesley told them, trying to hold back his amusement. "Childish sulking is very immature, I'll have you know."

"Well, that's 'cause we're teenagers! We've yet to mature. According to all the books, we're pretty much expected to act out and, and be rebellious," Miss Rosenberg shot back.

"Childish and rebellious is hardly the same thing, Miss Rosenberg," he admonished her, before turning his attention elsewhere. "Now, uh, Mr. Shay –"

"It's Morgan," the lad who was now up on stage with a ventriloquist's dummy interrupted him.

"Yes, of course. Please proceed," he gestured with his right hand.

"Hi. I'm Morgan," Mr. Shay said, before moving the dummy's head. "And I'm Sid!" the boy added, trying not to move his lips too much.

{ _Good Lord, but he's_ _ **got**_ _to be the worst ventriloquist I've ever seen!_ } Wesley winced at the awfulness of the act. { _I see the torture has begun yet again!_ }

Moving the mannequin's mouth, Mr. Shay said as 'Sid', "Hey Morgan, would you like to tell some jokes?" He added as himself, "Would I!" Then again as the dummy, the male teen said, "As a matter of fact, it is! It's also a wood nose, and a wood mouth!"

Wesley took off his glasses and was just about to thank the boy and put an end to the torture, when 'Sid' suddenly seemed to take on a life of his own. "Alright, time out. Let's stop this before someone gets hurt." The wooden dummy then said to Mr. Shay, "Kid, you are the worst. Even I can see your lips move."

{ _Ah. Now this is better,_ } Wes put his glasses back on, ignoring the way his Slayer and her friends were now watching the proceedings with interest. { _Mr. Shay must have initially been suffering from stage fright, or some such thing. Alright, let's see how well he can do..._ }

Mr. Shay said to the dummy, "C'mon, Sid. You're spoiling my act. I worked on these jokes for weeks!"

"You call those jokes? My jockey shorts are made out of better material. And they're edible!" the puppet shot back, all without a hint of Mr. Shay moving his lips.

"Okay, then I guess we're finished here," the boy said, looking around at him questioningly.

"Excellent, well done!" Wesley congratulated the young man, fascinated despite himself. "Mr. Shay, thank you for your performance."

"I am officially impressed," Mr. McNally nodded.

"Me, too. Morgan, you're really good!" Miss Rosenberg told the lad, beaming at him.

"Yeah. I mean, even though ventriloquist dummies totally creep me out, that was one quality performance!" Miss Summers added.

"Thanks," Mr. Shay nodded politely, before putting the dummy away in his case.

{ _Well, looks like I'm done here at last. Apart from the unexpected extras, of course._ } "Now, if you three can come up with an act that's even half as impressive as that one, our new headmaster will doubtless be inclined to forgive your mocking of school events – and school authority figures," Wesley said to the trio, instantly causing them all to groan in dismay as Mr. Shay vanished backstage.

"So what are we gonna do?" Miss Summers whined. "None of us have got any talent!"

"Well, actually, Willow can play the piano," Mr. McNally said, looking at the ginger-haired girl hopefully.

"You can?" Miss Summers demanded of her best friend.

"A little," Miss Rosenberg shrugged.

"And Buffy, you've got all those great Slayer reflexes; so that means you can juggle balls and weapons and stuff, can't you?" Mr. McNally then asked excitedly.

"Uh – yeah. Maybe. I suppose," the Slayer admitted reluctantly. "Might need a bit of practice, but I guess I could pull off something like that. I think."

"Great! So that means we've got two-thirds of the problem nailed down, already," the young man said excitedly, before a glum look appeared on his features. "Darn. What the hell am _**I**_ gonna do?"

"You, uh, you could attempt to do a dramatic scene, like Miss Chase," he suggested. { _It's the probably the easiest way to muddle your way through this, young man, as something like that doesn't require any actual talent!_ }

"Hey, yeah! You're right, Wes. Oooh, I could ask Cordy to partner with me! We could do her dramatic scene together!" the McNally boy said, perking up.

"And when _**that**_ happens, I'll announce that I'm running for May Queen later this month," Miss Rosenberg announced acidly.

"Huh?" the youth looked at her in confusion.

"Uh, Jesse, I think what Will's trying to say is that, um, Cordelia – well, she's not the sort of girl who likes to share the limelight with anyone. Apart from Xander, maybe," Miss Summers shrugged, before looking around. "Where the heck are they, anyway?"

"Oh, probably making out in some dark corner behind the stage," Miss Rosenberg said rather cattily, gesturing towards the area in question.

Wesley got up to stretch his legs a little, ignoring the rest of the conversation. Even though he knew he was counting his chickens before they hatched, with any luck, he could prevent the new head of the school from making things difficult for him by successfully directing this shambles of a talent show. At least he had at least two good acts to work with, the dancer and the ventriloquist –

Of course, that optimism only lasted until later that afternoon – when one of her classmates found Miss Djiemanowicz dead in the girls' locker room, her heart missing and the beautiful blonde's chest a bloody, ruined mess.

* * *

 **Spike's warehouse lair, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

Spike was still smarting over his humiliating defeat at the Slayer's hands, a few weeks back – she'd actually had her arm around his neck and a stake to his bloody heart, for Satan's sake! He hated to admit it, but if Dru hadn't been there – no, best not to think about that.

{ _Makes me glad Angelus and Darla – and especially the Master – aren't around no more; they'd have_ _ **never**_ _let me hear the end of that effin' screw-up! Got to kill that Slayer soon, not to mention all her blasted sidekicks – well, apart from those two that so-called Dark Lady seems to have an interest in. No, I should kill her Watcher first, once I find out who the bloody ponce is –_ }

But then Drusilla started laughing in bed beside him, and so Spike turned his attention her way. "Dru? Luv, something wrong?"

"It's the wee little puppet man, Spoike!" his sire laughed. "He struts and barks orders and creaks ever so cutely. I want one, my precious darling – please, can't I 'ave a wooden dummy of my own?"

"Whatever you want, pet," Spike smirked, humoring her the best way he knew how. "Soon as that damn Chosen One is dead, I'll getcha whatever you want!"

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Auditorium, Sunnydale**

 **Later that afternoon**

Morgan was feeling very upset. "Emily's dead, Sid! Her heart was ripped out and taken! We didn't – we failed to stop that demon!"

The demon hunter, who was sitting on the ventriloquist stool in the middle of the stage, tried to calm him down. "I know, kid. I know. But we can't afford to focus on that. Right now, you and me gotta be on the lookout. Figure out who's gonna be next."

Morgan walked over towards his partner. "How are we even supposed to –"

"Shh! Someone's coming," Sid told him, and then entered into mindless puppet mode.

Morgan turned around, and saw Cordelia Chase and her boyfriend – Xander Harris himself! – enter the auditorium from the front side door. "Uh, hi."

"Hey, Morgan. Got a few spare minutes for us to talk?" the ex-cheerleader demanded, heading straight for him.

"Uh, actually –"

"Good! This shouldn't take long," Cordelia blasted straight past his half-formed objections. "So, listen, did you notice anything weird going on before Emily was murdered?"

Morgan gathered Sid up from the stool and came closer to the new arrivals. "Weird? What do ya mean by 'weird'?"

"Well, did Emily say anything to you, or did ya see her arguing with anybody?" Xander asked, even though he was looking at Sid as he asked that.

Morgan shook his head, going over to Sid's case. "No. And no." He opened the case. "I was busy; Sid and I were talking –"

"Talking?" Cordelia raised an eyebrow.

"I meant, rehearsing," Morgan replied, cursing his poor choice of words. He was just about to put the demon hunter inside the case, but the pain from the tumor suddenly blasted through his head with the force of a fully loaded freight train – and he had to park his ass down in a nearby auditorium seat, moaning and groaning loudly. "Ugghhh!"

"Are you okay?" Cordelia frowned, looking concerned.

"Look, sweetheart! He answered your questions. Now leave him alone!" Sid spoke up, even though Morgan immediately wished he hadn't; he was pretty sure these two could tell he was in too much pain to focus properly, and pass this off as a ventriloquist thing.

"Well, of all the nerve!" Cordelia growled, grabbing Sid out of his hands and passing the demon hunter over to her boyfriend. "Okay, Morgan, you toolbag – how 'bout you talk to me _**without**_ hiding behind your stupid puppet?"

"Give him back!" Morgan lurched to his feet, and he was just about to grab Sid out of Xander's hands – when he saw how his classmate's eyes had morphed from brown to _**green**_ , and they were sparkling and shimmering in the auditorium's artificial lighting –

" _You can find the last Brotherhood of Seven demon hiding amongst the children here, if you look hard enough in the right place. But beware that the First Evil will not allow you to rest in peace, once you and your allies have slain your enemy."_

{ _Holy_ _ **crap**_ _!_ } Morgan thought to himself in disbelief, grabbing Sid away from Harris after that guy's eyes returned to normal. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, looking and feeling freaked.

"What?" Xander said in confusion, looking first at his girlfriend and then switching his attention back to Sid. "I mean, what was what?"

"I don't get it, this is insane! Xander, why the hell would you do the Oracle thing for some lifeless wooden puppet?" Cordelia demanded, glaring at her significant other – before switching her glare to himself and Sid.

"Because I'm not a lifeless wooden puppet," Sid spoke up, and Morgan wasn't exactly surprised to hear his partner subsequently order him to put him down. "Name's Sid, doll face," the demon hunter added, standing and walking around without any visible signs of support. "And I get the feeling we need to talk, big time."

"Oh, boy," Morgan heard Harris say; just like in that TV show _Quantum Leap_ , or whatever it was called!

"Did I mention that I'm _**really**_ starting to hate this school?" Cordelia growled, her glare growing even more intense.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **A short while later**

"Yeah, I'm a demon hunter. I know it's hard to believe, but I really am," Sid explained to his audience. He could see Morgan sitting off to the side and not really paying attention, but the rest of them – the three good-looking girls, the two male teens and the British guy – were all staring at him with rapt fascination. "So who are you people, exactly?"

"I'm seeing it, and I'm hearing it, but I'm _**still**_ finding it impossible to believe," one of the male teens – the one who wasn't Harris – said, blinking rapidly.

"Ignore him," the girl with brownish-blonde hair said, giving the Doubting Thomas a slight nudge in the ribs with her elbow. "Jesse couldn't believe it when I told him we weren't ever going out on a date again, either."

"Hey!" the kid yelped. "Buff, I thought we agreed never to discuss that in public?!"

"Please be quiet, Mr. McNally," the Brit ordered him, before coming forward and squatting down so that they were at eye level. "The name is Wesley Wyndam-Pryce, sir. I'm with the Council of Watchers of Great Britain."

"Seriously? I mean, what the heck are you doing here? Monitoring some Potential Slayer or another?" Sid asked in surprise.

"You know about Slayers?" the redhead asked in disbelief.

"Please let me handle this, Miss Rosenberg," the Watcher demanded, before he could reply. "Now then, sir –"

"I already told you, mac, the name's Sid," he interrupted. "Sheesh. Hard to believe you guys have actually become even more stuffy and uptight than you were, back in the Thirties!"

"What's that supposed to mean?" the Harris kid spoke up, looking at him oddly.

"Well, I knew a Slayer back then. Korean chick, very hot-looking. Man, we had some fun times..." He saw the looks on just about everyone's faces and added, "Hey, that was pre-dummy, alright? I was a guy at the time!"

"Just a moment," the Watcher grabbed a book and started leafing through it. "Korean Slayer, circa the 1930's – ah. Yes, here we go. Su-Li Kim, who was the Chosen One from 1932 until 1935, apparently. You knew her?"

"Yup, I did," Sid paced around a little, ignoring the effect it had on most of those staring at him. "She was a good kid, and like I said, a total knockout. Kinda odd how just about all Slayers are real lookers, huh? Makes me wonder whether the Slayer essence is actually male, when it hops from one girl to the next –"

"Ewww!" the petite blonde suddenly looked disgusted. "No way! I do _**not**_ have something in me that's totally guy-like –" She abruptly shut herself up, aware of all the looks being sent her way. "Well, I don't!"

"Oh, so you're the Slayer around here? Huh. Okay. Even though I was thinkin' that if it was any one of you three ladies..." He pointed at the brunette, "...it woulda been you. You got the Slayer attitude down perfect, after all."

"And what's _**that**_ supposed to mean?" the doll-face with the big chest demanded angrily.

"Oh, c'mon, kid – that 'I am the law' act you pulled off just now, in the school auditorium? Not many girls your age that aren't the Chosen One, who can pull that off!" Sid told her, blinking twice.

"We've gotten kinda side-tracked here," Morgan spoke up, as everyone turned to look at him. "Because that Brotherhood of Seven demon, it's still out there. And we need to find it before it kills again! Remember?"

"Yes, excellent point, Mr. Shay," the Watcher nodded. Then he glanced at the wall clock, and added, "However, it's now past school hours, and thus both you and your classmates should go home. Doubtless your parents are expecting you all to arrive soon, and the appearances do need to be maintained."

"It's okay, kid; I'll stick around here, now that we've got extra help," he said to Morgan, as his partner glanced at him questioningly. "The Brit's right, you should go on home. Give your mom a big hug. I'll see ya tomorrow, okay?"

"Fine," Morgan nodded, and then headed for the front door. The rest of them followed, until Sid called out, "Hey, Oracle Boy? Mind if I ask ya a question in private? Nothing to do with that demon we need to track down, just professional curiosity."

"Okay," Harris shrugged. The others quickly left, apart from the guy's girlfriend; even the Watcher disappeared into his private office, shutting the door behind him.

"Don't even _**think**_ of asking me to get lost, you wooden midget!" the brunette said angrily, before he could tell her to take a hike. "Because I don't especially like you, and I don't necessarily trust you, and there is no way in hell I'm leaving my boyfriend alone with you! Besides, there's no point; Xander and I have no secrets from each other, he'd tell me everything afterwards straightaway!"

"She's right, I would," the Harris kid nodded. "So just go ahead and ask already."

"Fine, whatever," he shrugged. "I was just curious about how you ended up, y'know, what you are. On account of Oracles aren't born to their doom, like Seers are; way I heard, there's always an element of free will involved. So, care to fill me in?"

"Hang on, before we get into that – _**I**_ have a question! When Xander said for you to beware of that First Evil thing – what the hell was that all about?" the girl demanded, before her boyfriend could open his mouth.

"Eh, just something I royally pissed off, way back when. And thanks for the warning there, kid; already got a couple of things in mind which should enable me to steer clear of the First, when the time comes," Sid nodded. "Now, how about it?"

Harris shrugged and then told him everything. Including the Holy Grail type ritual the boy had undergone in that fortune-teller's tent. { _Holy shit! I bet he doesn't even understand the significance of what he did, that whole water miracle thing. Betcha he doesn't understand the real burden he's placed on his shoulders, either!_ }

"The Dark Lady, huh? The Goddess of War, Prophecy and Death. Yeah, I heard about her," Sid said simply.

"You have? What? What have you heard?" the womb with a view demanded immediately.

"That you don't want to screw around with anyone like that; bad things happen to those who do. Both the Elder Gods and the Lesser Gods have a certain reputation, where that sort of stuff is concerned," Sid told the girl. "Seriously – bloodthirsty gods are _**not**_ something you want paying attention to you, if you inadvertently mess up their plans!"

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Auditorium, Sunnydale**

 **April 4** **th** **, 1997**

Willow was actually regretting how she'd decided to help one of her classmates named Marc Robinson with his magic act, rather than do her piano recital. Because right now, she was strapped down to a guillotine bench, and Marc was sliding the head restraint into place, and she felt _**really**_ uncomfortable!

"Uh, Marc, shouldn't the guillotine blade be pointed at my neck?" she asked, as he locked it with a padlock.

"No, uh, this way your scalp gets sliced off, and your brain just – comes pouring out," Marc said distractedly.

Willow frowned – the words were just kind of, well, creepy. Especially since Sid the dummy was on the lookout for a demon that wanted to –

At that moment, something just went _**click!**_ in her brain.

[ RELEASE ME! ] Willow abruptly screamed telepathically, having figured out the truth. That Marc was the last Brotherhood of Seven demon!

"What? How did you-?" Marc briefly looked surprised, before his features became cold and an inhumanly cruel look appeared in his eyes. "Never mind. I will be whole. I will be made new!"

He went to take a swing at the rope with the machete in his hand – but then he went flying backwards across the stage, as Willow _**pushed**_ with all the telekinetic force at her command. Gathering her strength, she pushed again; and the guillotine blade lifted up off the frame, and then fell to the floor behind her safely.

"YOU BITCH! You've ruined _**everything!**_ " Marc said hatefully, before he morphed into the soulless demon he truly was and came straight for her.

{ _No, no, no!_ } Willow knew she needed time to release herself from the guillotine frame, and her magical strength was now depleted; she could force Marc away again once, maybe twice, but she wouldn't be able to get free of her restraints –

"Found you!" Sid's voice rang out, as the wooden puppet jumped onto Marc's back and plunged in a knife, aiming for the heart. But he missed, and the demon roared and threw him off –

But then Buffy showed up as well, and plunged her stake straight into the demon's chest!

"AUGGHHHHH!" Demon Marc yelled, growing visibly weaker. Nonetheless, he reached out and slapped the Slayer aside.

"Heart and head! Gotta get 'em both, or he'll survive and come back worse than ever!" Sid called out.

Willow was tempted to start cursing wildly, but she knew she had to concentrate. Mentally grabbing hold of the restraints, she attempted to untie them – but it was no good, she couldn't get a good enough 'grip' on them –

"Willow!" she then heard Jesse and Xander call out, and then her friends sprang into action. Xander started hacking away at the lock with the machete, while Jesse attempted to get the restraints off of her. Cordelia and Wesley quickly joined in, and so in almost no time she was free – apart from her head. Then Xander got the lock to break, and so she yanked the head restraint off.

"Where's Morgan?" Willow asked in confusion, as Buffy and Sid continued to fight the bad guy – the rest of the gang was here. So why wasn't Morgan present?

"Marc – the demon – it killed him, but it dumped the brain afterwards. 'Cause Morgan had brain cancer," Jesse said in a big rush, before grabbing her into a tight hug. She could feel his overwhelming relief that she was still alive; could see it on everyone's faces, really.

Then Jesse's words truly sunk in. { _Morgan's_ _ **dead?!**_ }

Sure, they hadn't been friends; but as two of the most academically proficient sophomore students at Sunnydale High, Morgan had frequented many of the same circles as her. Math Club, Science Club, stuff like that. And now, hearing that he'd been killed, just like that –

The guillotine blade lifted itself up off the floor, flew across the room and embedded itself into the demon's neck with a wet-sounding _**THUMP**_!

Demon Marc made a gurgling noise, but didn't fall down; the blade hadn't fully penetrated his throat. Seeing this Sid jumped up off the floor and tackled the Brotherhood of Seven demon, pushing the blade further in.

"Got you now!" the puppet roared triumphantly, as the bad guy lost its balance and crashed to the floor, before the guillotine blade passed all the way through and decapitated him.

The ensuing silence was nearly as shocking as seeing the demon hunter's puppet body go completely still, as Sid was finally freed from the demonic curse he'd been under for so long –

And then the curtain rose, as it was time for the talent show to begin – and the auditorium was packed full of teachers and parents and the non-performing students.

Willow saw Principal Snyder staring at them in confusion from the front row, and then the new head of the school said loudly enough for the entire Scooby Gang to hear: "I don't get it. What is it? Avant-garde or something?"

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** DonR, thank you for your anonymous review, and good points about Jesse and Aura. I'm glad you like the representation of Wesley in this fic as well. And wow - this story has now reached 300 reviews and counting! I never, EVER expected that when I first started publishing it a few months ago, and I really must thank all of you for all the feedback. Please, keep it coming! In addition, I hope you didn't mind the reference to the old Buffy Chaos Bleeds videogame, I simply couldn't help myself; I loved that game way back when, it was my favorite out of all of them. Until next time...


	31. Dreamscapes And Nightmares

**Chapter Thirty-One: Dreamscapes And Nightmares**

 **A hell dimension not all that far from the mortal plane, metaphysically speaking**

 **April 13** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

A place of neither sight nor sound, and yet definitely of mind and power, this dimension was as incomprehensible to human beings as the concept of a third dimension would be to strictly two-dimensional entities. And it was within this hellish, incomprehensible place that the essence of the Master was still waiting for its revenge upon Spike and Drusilla.

Ever since returning here from the mortal realm, the dimension where it had originally been spawned into existence, the non-corporeal blood demon had thought of little else.

There were some things it was unable to ignore, though. For example, the hold which the Seed of Wonder still held over it.

Now, the Master's essence knew that the Seed was the heart of all magic on Earth. That it was the world's soul, and the source of all life upon it. Heinrich also knew the Seed predated humans, demons and even the Old Ones; maybe even the First Evil itself...

Of course, the entire planet had been nothing but demons and horrors back then. Spillover from another, even less pleasant dimension. Still, the Seed had brought the life and magic forth from that other dimension... and the Seed had kept it there in the mortal realm. It had prevented everything from flooding back into the original demon dimension, much like a cork in a bottle. The Seed had been the only thing that could accomplish that – and the Master's essence hated the Seed for it.

It also hated the Seed for maintaining the status quo, helping prevent the Old Ones from returning to Earth and reclaiming their rightful domain and demesne. Not to mention enslaving its original corporeal vessel for protection purposes, should the right circumstances ever come to pass. Exactly what circumstances would constitute such a threat, the Master's essence didn't know; all it knew was that the Seed would be able to resurrect him on the human plane, if it so chose.

An occurrence that wouldn't be entirely unwelcome, the blood demon thought to itself; at least, if that meant an opportunity to punish those two traitors who had betrayed it.

Still, for now, there was nothing to do but wait. Wait until the time came for revenge to be at hand.

The humans had an excellent saying about revenge being a dish best served cold, after all.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **The next day**

Cordelia almost walked past the "Vote Harmony Kendall for May Queen!" poster before she stopped dead in her tracks, and stared in disbelief. { _I don't believe this! That little traitor used one of_ _ **my**_ _old ideas, to try to get herself elected the school's May Queen?!_ }

She examined the poster more closely. It had a large picture of Harmony wearing her cheerleader outfit and sitting on a set of gymnastics bars, featuring one of the blonde's brightest yet dopey-looking smiles. Cordelia almost threw her arms up in disgust at seeing the 'Vote Now! Vote Early! Vote Often!' slogan across the bottom. Yet another thing the Kendall girl had copied – stolen! – off of her.

Deep down, Cordelia knew she was making a big fuss about nothing – ever since she'd found out about the demons and vampires and the rest of the monsters out there, not to mention given up her popularity in order to be with the guy she loved, her priorities had shifted a lot. _**Survival**_ was what mattered – like Xander had once mentioned, many of the kids they'd entered the school system with ten years ago were now dead (or possibly worse). But still –

The poster looked professionally done, complete with the little pockets at the bottom corners with Take One! pictures. She was willing to bet they had the same 'Vote for Harmony!' and 'Vote now, early and often!' slogans printed on them, front and back. And despite how she wasn't willing to trade her boyfriend for popularity, sometimes – well, sometimes –

{ _Yeah. I do miss it. I'm honest enough to admit that, at least to myself._ }

"Dime for your thoughts, sweetheart?" Xander's voice distracted her from her thoughts, and Cordelia turned around to see him approaching her.

"I thought it was supposed to be a penny?" she asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Please! Cordelia Chase's thoughts are worth a lot more than that!" the Dork said with a big smile.

"Yeah, they are," she smiled back. "I missed you, Doofus."

"Hasn't been that long since we last saw each other, Cor. But yeah, I missed you, too," he smirked before he gave her a hug and kiss.

They started walking away from the May Queen poster, arm in arm. Thankfully, seeing her together with Goof Boy wasn't really attention-worthy anymore, and just about everyone ignored them as they made their way down the corridor. She asked, "So, how'd your dad deal with visiting his mother-in-law?"

"Better than I expected, actually; Grandma Lambert mostly ignored him," Xander admitted. "She was more interested in talking to me – about you. My mom musta told her that we're dating at some point."

"Oh? And what did she ask? And what did you say?" Cordelia demanded curiously.

"Uh, she – well, Grandma said something – please don't ask what – that caused my mom to go all red with embarrassment, and my dad to burst out laughing when he saw the expression on her face," her boyfriend shrugged, looking somewhat embarrassed herself.

"Hrmm," Cordelia replied thoughtfully. She was about to add more, when –

"Miss Chase! And you, Harris. Hold it right there," Principal Troll, err, Snyder came up to them with a scowl on his face.

"Yes, Principal Snyder? How can I help you today?" she asked with a wide-eyed smile that successfully hid her true opinion of the guy.

"Wanted to talk to you about the talent show last week," the balding little man said, looking annoyed. "More specifically, the police interviews which the both of you gave, afterwards. You didn't exactly describe this school in the best possible light!"

"Well, gee, Principal Snyder, sir. Two kids got murdered on campus. What exactly were we supposed to say – that that never happened?" the Dumbass asked, while avoiding eye contact with their inquisitor.

"This school already has quite the reputation, Harris. Identity fraud, missing persons, decapitation... we don't need any more fuel poured onto the fire! Especially not from the bad element, like you and your friends!" Snyder fired back angrily.

"Excuse me, Principal Snyder? You're calling _**my**_ boyfriend part of the bad element around here?" Cordelia demanded.

"If the shoe fits, why not?" the annoying little gnome demanded.

"Oh. Well, I guess that means you don't want my father to make any more charitable donations to this school's alumni fund? No problem, I'll tell Daddy that later tonight; he's been thinking about trimming the fat anyway, and I'll make sure he tells the school board how it was all _**your**_ idea," she said with a malicious-looking smile.

"What? What are you talking about, Miss Chase?" Snyder demanded, starting to look pale. Then he added, "No, never mind. And there's no need for your father to tell anyone anything, understood? My point is, from now on everyone's gonna see a very different Sunnydale High. Tight ship, clean, orderly, and above all – no more homicides on campus!"

Snyder turned around and stalked off, obviously looking for someone new to vent his frustrations upon. Xander watched him go and then said to her, "Wow. I'd be jealous, but I'm way too busy being in awe of you!"

{ _And so you should be!_ } "Come on, Idiot Boy, we've got Ms. Tishler next," she smirked, grabbing him by the hand as they walked towards the classroom in question.

"Oh, yay. She's the one who assigned 'active listening' as homework yesterday," Xander made a face.

"I know, right? Where you put on your big ears and really focus on the other person? Pffft," Cordelia replied, dragging him into the classroom. "Even Willow's parents could do better than that!"

"Cordy? You mentioned something about my mom and dad?" Nerd Girl asked, looking up from her conversation with Buffy.

"Never mind, Will, not important," Xander said, brushing it aside. He then looked around. "Where's Jesse?"

"I dunno. Huh... he's always late to class, nowadays," Buffy frowned. "I wonder, what's up with that?"

{ _Interesting question. Hrmm – is it possible Stalker Boy's finally quit fantasizing about me, and actually found himself a girlfriend?_ } Cordelia asked herself, before shaking her head sadly. { _No way I could ever be so lucky!_ }

The class got underway, as Ms. Tishler asked Wendell Sears to read the first two paragraphs on page seventy-eight of the textbook – when a bunch of tarantula spiders appeared out of nowhere, and started crawling all over him. He started screaming in fear, as everyone moved back and some of the students fled out the door.

{ _Said it before and I'll say it again, I_ _ **hate**_ _this school!_ } Cordelia thought to herself angrily, desperately trying to avoid all the swarming arachnids.

* * *

 **A place where nothing need be what it seems**

 **A time meaningless to mortal minds**

Cordelia blinked, before managing to focus on her surroundings. What the-?

She was in a courtroom of some kind. But it didn't exactly look like something out of civics class! Okay, sure, she was seated at a plain wooden table, and the raised desk which the judge sat behind – the bench – was definitely present. But the Great Seal of the jurisdiction, and the flags of the appropriate federal and state governments – oh, what the hell? { _Sunnydale District Cheerleader Court, in the state of Sunnydale High School?_ }

Cordelia looked around; adjacent to the bench was the witness stand, and the desks where the court clerk and the court reporter were supposed to sit. And the courtroom was divided into two parts by the bar. No surprises there. But there was no jury box? And – there were no seats in the spectator gallery? { _What's going on, what is all this?_ }

Cordelia could have sworn that she was all alone in the room – when less than a moment later, she wasn't.

"All right, listen up," Aura told her roughly, as Cordelia blinked a number of times. "Whatever you do, don't get mad and mouth off at the judge! Understand, Cordelia? Just let me do all the talking, for God's sake!"

"Huh? What?" she asked numbly, still having no idea what was going on here.

"Aura? You ready?" Harmony interrupted the conversation, walking over from the prosecuting attorney's table. Cordelia blinked again; the blonde had her hair done up in a severe bun, and she was wearing an expensive suit straight out of _Law And Order_ or something –

"Ready as I'll ever be. You?" Aura demanded, as Cordelia took in her clothing; which definitely matched what Harmony was wearing, no doubt about it. It was as if they'd gone shopping at the exact same store –

"I was _**born**_ ready," Harmony replied with a cold, confident smile; one that Cordelia had never seen on the blonde ditz's face before. Then the Kendall girl retreated to her own table.

Gwen suddenly appeared in the bailiff's position, wearing a tacky-looking grey uniform with a gun at her hip. Likewise, Joy appeared in the court clerk position, and the court reporter was – Amy Madison? { _Hang on; I thought she left town months ago! So what's she doing in... Cheerleader Court?_ }

"All rise! The Honorable Judge Catherine Madison presiding," Gwen called out in her role as the bailiff in this – this _**insanity!**_

Everyone automatically got up – even Cordelia herself, she simply couldn't help it. She then watched as the door to the judge's chambers opened, and the Most Famous Sunnydale High Cheerleader of All Time entered the room. Oddly, Mrs. Madison was wearing her old SHS cheerleading outfit underneath the black robes –

The so-called judge sat down and banged her gavel on the wooden block located on the bench. "Cheerleader Court is now in session."

{ _Again, what the hell?_ } Cordelia thought to herself in confusion, as she and the rest of the girls (apart from Gwen) quickly sat down. { _What is going on here?_ }

"What's on the docket for today?" Mrs. Madison demanded, looking down at Joy.

"Open and shut case, Your Honor. We have the state of Sunnydale High School versus Cordelia Chase –" Joy started to say.

"Objection!" Aura called out.

"You can't object yet, counselor. The trial hasn't actually started," Mrs. Madison glared at the defense table.

"Nonetheless, Your Honor, the clerk of the court's language was biased and prejudicial," Aura insisted, sending Joy a Look. "I request a retraction as part of the official recording of proceedings."

Catherine the Great nodded. "Agreed. Well?"

"As you wish, Your Honor. Today's case is the state of Sunnydale High School versus Cordelia Chase," Joy replied mechanically.

Mrs. Madison looked over towards her daughter. "Amy, let the record show that Ms. Breckenridge's comments were officially retracted. Now, let's get on with it! Ms. Kendall?"

Harmony got up immediately. "Yes, Your Honor. Cordelia Rose Chase has been charged with discrediting her popularity, by not only fraternizing with a nerd but willingly making out with one –"

"WHAT?" Cordelia exclaimed, unable to believe what she was hearing.

"Order!" Mrs. Madison barked harshly, glaring at her. The so-called judge banged her gavel again and added, "Any more outbursts like that, young lady – and you will immediately find yourself in contempt of court! Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Your Honor. The defense apologizes unreservedly and promises not to do that again," Aura said quickly, before giving her a brief glare.

{ _This can_ _ **not**_ _be happening,_ } Cordelia thought to herself dazedly, as the trial got underway. { _Have I fallen into the_ Twilight Zone _or something? Wouldn't actually surprise me if that was the case, what with all the other weird crap that's happened this year!_ }

She only vaguely paid attention as the trial proceeded, as many of her former friends – the popular girls at Sunnydale High – testified against her in the witness stand. A remote, detached part of her mind noted how Aura tried valiantly to defend her against the so-called 'charges'; but Harmony (in stark contrast to how she normally acted) was like a shark that had smelled blood in the water, attacking her at every turn.

"Ms. Kendall, do you have any more witnesses to call?" Mrs. Madison eventually asked, looking fed up with the entire proceedings.

"Yes, Your Honor; the prosecution would like to call the star witness for this case. Alexander LaVelle Harris," Harmony said smugly, as Gwen (still acting as the bailiff) escorted him to the witness stand.

{ _Oh, no,_ } Cordelia silently groaned, taking in her boyfriend's appearance. Where were the designer clothes she'd convinced him to wear since that memorable Saturday shopping expedition? Where was the fashionable haircut he'd gotten, after she'd practically forced him to do it? _**This**_ Xander Harris looked like the freshman skater punk he'd been, less than a year ago!

"Place your hand on the Bible, and repeat after me: I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth, so help me God," Gwen demanded.

Shrugging, the messy-haired Xander did so and recited the oath with almost casual unconcern. Then he said, "Okay, Gwen, there ya go – and as for my first act of truth-telling? You're a bitch. Just like all of your friends."

"Order!" Mrs. Madison shouted, glaring at him and banging her gavel.

"Oh, I don't frickin' think so! I mean, why should I pay any attention to you? 'Cause just in case you've forgotten, Mrs. M? You're dead," Xander told the woman coldly, as the temperature suddenly seemed to plummet throughout the courtroom.

Cordelia instantly had a bad feeling about her boyfriend's words – before the entire room started to swirl around madly, making her dizzy. The occupants abruptly vanished in bursts of yellow flames –

Cordelia blinked. Multiple times. She suddenly found herself back where she'd been before; but now the courtroom looked like the interior of the Sunnydale County Courthouse she'd visited once before, all dark wood panelling and seats in the spectator gallery and everything else.

Buffy's Watcher – or Mr. Windy Price-tag, as she still thought of him in private – he was sitting on the bench now, instead of Mrs. Madison. Buffy herself now occupied the bailiff's position, even though she wasn't wearing Gwen's grey uniform – and she had a wooden stake strapped to her right hip, instead of a gun. Likewise, Jonathan Levinson was in the court clerk position, and the court reporter was now – Owen Thurman? { _What? What the heck is going on here?!_ }

"This court is now in session," Mr. Windy Price-tag banged down the gavel – and his black clothing instantly transformed into scarlet-red robes, plus he was now wearing a white horse-hair wig, and, and –

"Miss Rosenberg?" the so-called judge called out, staring at Willow.

"Your Honor, the State of California is ready to proceed with its case against Cordelia Rose Chase. The charges are assault and battery, attempted rape, and unlawful trespass onto the Sunnydale Zoo. Oh, and aiding and abetting criminal activities committed by a third party; namely, tax fraud," Willow said from the prosecution table – wait, Nerd Girl was wearing the exact same clothes Harmony had had on?

"Your Honor, the defense moves that all charges be dropped and requests that this case be immediately dismissed," McNally said from his position at the defense table, sitting alongside her. She couldn't help noticing the fashionable suit and tie, he was dressed like a lawyer – and not his typical loser self. { _He's actually – oh,_ _ **no**_ _!_ }

To Cordelia's horror, she noticed that instead of the designer dress she'd been wearing before – she was now clothed in a horrible-looking orange suit, the type that prisoners of the California justice system wore. She'd seen it on KTLA –

"On what grounds?" Mr. Windy Price-tag demanded of Stalker Boy, in reply to his previous statement.

"On the grounds that the so-called victim – the accused's boyfriend, Alexander Harris – refuses to press charges against my client, and the prosecution's case for aiding and abetting in tax fraud is pure hearsay," McNally replied, causing her to look at him in surprise again.

{ _Huh. Maybe he's not_ _ **totally**_ _useless?_ } Cordelia asked herself. { _A girl can hope, anyway._ }

"I see. Miss Rosenberg?" Mr. Windy Price-tag demanded.

"The State of California is aware that Mr. Harris is a hostile witness, but that doesn't affect the basis of our case, Your Honor," Willow replied. "There's sufficient evidence that both felony and misdemeanor offences have occurred; enough to prosecute the defendant to the full extent of the law with a reasonable chance of success."

"Very well. Mr. McNally, your motion is dismissed and your request denied. Miss Rosenberg, you may proceed," Mr. Windy Price-tag banged his gavel down.

Before the trial could begin, though, Xander blasted through the courtroom doors and yelled out, "Cordy!"

"Order! Order!" Mr. Windy Price-tag said angrily, banging his gavel down again as the so-called bailiff got in Xander's way.

"Ah, shove it up your limey ass, Wes! And Buffy, you get out of my way right now – well, if you still want my help in getting rid of all the vampires, in order to get your life back!" her boyfriend shouted, before shoving the stake-wielding yet hesitant Slayer aside.

Again, Cordelia couldn't help it; she got up from the table and ran towards Xander as fast as she could. Their lips met and fused together in pure, perfect pleasure, and –

The world abruptly started swirling madly all over again, people exploding into blue flames this time, all throughout the courtroom –

 _ **Flash.**_

Being in bed with the guy she loved, that night in the Sunnydale Motor Inn – but this time the possession actually _**worked**_ , her mentally and physically altered boyfriend ripping free of his restraints in an instant. And then Xander immediately started screwing her senseless, the sheer animal ferocity surprising in its intensity as he quickly howled and exploded inside her, his hot seed flooding her uterus as she orgasmed with an earth-shattering scream and –

 _ **Flash.**_

Being trapped in the Hyena House at the Sunnydale Zoo, slamming against that mystical barrier – only this time it fell immediately, allowing herself, her mate and her Pack to escape. Commandeering the U-Haul truck that had been parked outside, she led her people away from Sunnydale –

 _ **Flash.**_

"Do y'all take this woman to be yore lawfully wedded wife?"

"I do."

"And you, sweet thang, do you take this man to be yore lawfully wedded husband?"

"Well, it's a bit late to change my mind at this point!" she replied to the Elvis impersonator conducting the Vegas wedding ceremony, patting her huge, nine-months-pregnant belly – before staring at her mate hungrily and saying, "But yeah. 'Til death do us part."

 _ **Flash.**_

The birth cries of an infant filled her ears. Then Xander's delighted voice saying, "It's a girl!"

 _ **Flash.**_

"NOOOOOOOO!" she screamed, alone in the unfamiliar cemetery – standing in front of a tombstone that had the engraved words and numbers, "ALEXANDER HARRIS 1980 – 2005".

 _ **Darkness.**_

* * *

 **Cordelia's bedroom, Chase mansion**

 **April 17** **th** **, 1997**

Cordelia jerked upwards in her bed, panting wildly thanks to all her nightmares just now. She tried to calm down, but it took a while before she managed to get her racing heart and breathing under control.

{ _Grrf! Auggh. I'm nuts for letting Xander convince me to eat all that spicy Thai food earlier on, }_ Cordelia grumbled to herself. { _I swear, that's the_ _ **last**_ _time we ever do anything like that during Date Night!_ }

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **The next day**

{ _What a day. Boring classes, extra homework and a couple of tests coming up next week. Plus I'm tired and grumpy from all the nightmares last night. Thank God it's Friday; I totally need to de-stress!_ }

Cordelia opened her locker and started looking around for the books for her next class – when she suddenly noticed that she was now roughly nine months pregnant, her belly swollen and bloated and her clothes ripped and fraying at the seams. Just like in one of her nightmares last night.

{ _What the-? Am I dreaming again? Wake up, wake up, wake up!_ } she told herself immediately. After a few moments, Cordelia tried pinching herself, but that didn't work; it just made her forearm feel sore.

"Cordelia!" Xander yelled out her name as he came running down the corridor. Nobody else noticed, as far as she could tell; everyone was freaking out over their personal nightmares coming to life. Like Harmony now had totally frizzy hair, Aura's face was covered with scars and boils, Joy was being dragged off by a couple of Math Club nerds, and –

Her boyfriend skidded to a halt, and stared at her swollen belly in sheer disbelief. "Wait – is, is that mine? It is, isn't it? Holy cow, Cordy, that's your nightmare? Having my kid?"

"NO!" she growled, feeling angry – before she laughed. No, she cackled. And it was obvious from the look on his face that Xander instantly recognized that hyena-like laugh.

"Oh, crap. Uh, Hyena Girl? Is that you?" the Dweeb asked, backing away in fear.

"I am _**Alpha**_ , and you are my mate," Cordelia told him throatily, waddling forward. "Now, where's the rest of our Pack?"

"What? No, never mind, um – not sure how much you remember, but Kyle and Rhonda disappeared ages ago. No one's seen them for weeks," her mate babbled.

"Tor and Heidi?"

"Uh, guessing they're around here somewhere," he gestured helplessly. "But, um, priorities? Case you haven't noticed, Alphie, everyone's nightmares are coming to life here –" Harris suddenly ducked as a giant black wasp came flying down the school corridor, before straightening up and looking freaked. "Like that!"

"We need a defensible position, somewhere our children will be safe," she announced, covering her belly protectively. Ignoring the even-more-freaked look on her mate's face, she told him, "We should go to the library, and barricade the doors!"

"Library! Right. Uh, hang on... children? As in more than one?" Harris asked in confusion, approaching her and staring at her stomach.

She took a big sniff, savoring his smell. "Triplets," she told him, smiling as they hurried to get to their destination. Well, 'hurry' being a relative term, given her physical condition. "They're almost ready to be born, I can feel it –"

"Oh! Now I get it – this is _**my**_ nightmare," he interrupted, looking sick. "Oh, no, wait – you're not about to go into labor right now, are you?!"

"I'm – who is that?" Cordelia suddenly changed the topic, spying a twelve-year-old boy a bit further down the corridor.

"I dunno. Maybe he's Billy?" Xander said, squinting slightly.

"Who's Billy?" she demanded of Xander, feeling their offspring stirring restlessly within her. For a moment, Cordelia wondered if she was starting to have contractions, but then she quickly dismissed the idea; focusing on the new, unexpected presence in the school corridor. { _Is he a threat to me and mine? Little kid or not, I'll kill him if he is!_ }

"According to Wes, he's kinda the one responsible for this mess," her mate answered her question, before focusing on the kid as they arrived next to him. "Are you Billy Palmer?"

"Yeah, that's my name," the dark-haired boy nodded.

"Okay, okay – listen, here's the sitch. You're astral projecting, world's going crazy, and we're all way too close to getting sucked down into all sorts of nightmarish hell. And not wanting to sound all judge-y, but pretty much your fault," Harris babbled. "So, so I need ya to wake up from your coma now, understood?"

"No. I don't understand – what coma?" the brat replied, looking confused. Then his eyes widened. "The Ugly Man's coming!"

Just then, her mate's eyes shifted from brown to green; and they sparkled and shimmered the way they did, whenever he –

" _Lucky nineteen is more than who you are, and the Ugly Man is nothing but a child's representation of a cowardly individual who hurt you. So face your fear and unmask the monster, as it was not your fault your team lost your last baseball game."_

Empowered or not, Cordelia felt the familiar stirrings of disquiet and fear whenever _**that**_ happened. Then she saw the – thing – approaching them. Its scarred, inhuman face and its huge, deformed club arm was enough to convince her that this was not some normal – or even semi-normal, given the way their lives worked nowadays – threat.

"Lucky nineteen," the Ugly Man growled, heading straight for them.

Her initial instinct was to grab Xander and run – Alpha or not, her priority was protecting her unborn children and her mate – but Harris was already looking at the Ugly Man, and his eyes were green and sparkling again, and he was saying something in a language she couldn't understand –

Something within her howled in primal pain, as the Ugly Man's arms and legs simply vanished from existence. The now-limbless body instantly fell to the floor, helpless and immobile.

"Lucky nineteen!" the monster growled helplessly, an evil glare on its face.

But then Billy came forward, his hands reaching out to peel back the Ugly Man's face. A bright light streamed out from behind the mask – and the next instant, the entire world changed.

Cordelia suddenly realized she was no longer possessed by that Greater Totemic Spirit, and that she was no longer about to give birth to three kids – and so, amazed that she hadn't actually done so earlier, she immediately fainted.

* * *

 **Outside Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **A while later**

Willow, Jesse and Buffy were walking along towards the street, discussing what had recently happened at the Sunnydale General Hospital. All three of them (and Wesley) had been present when Billy had woken up, and the Palmer boy had identified his baseball coach as the one who had beaten him up so savagely that he'd ended up in a coma.

The Slayer said, "I still can't believe someone who's a Little League coach would actually do something like that!"

Jesse shrugged, "Well, not me. I mean, back when Xan and I were into baseball? I learned how there are plenty of adults like that. Lots of pressure from the parents, ya know?"

"Yeah, but that guy almost killed Billy – just 'cause he blamed that poor kid for losing one stupid game! So I'm glad the man's behind bars now, where he belongs," Willow replied fervently.

"So, looking forward to meeting your dad? The real variety?" Jesse asked his Slayer friend, changing the subject. He'd recently learned that Buffy's worst nightmare involved her parents blaming her for their divorce, and so the fake version of Hank Summers who had shown up earlier today had thoroughly messed with her mind.

It certainly didn't help that the Slayer had briefly turned into a vampire as well –

"Oh, yeah. We've got a lot of catching up to do in Los Angeles," Buffy said with a sunny smile.

Jesse never got the chance to reply before Buffy's dad arrived in his Hemi Cuda and briefly honked the horn, before he got out of the car and waved to get the Buffster's attention.

"Hi!" Mr. Summers called out, smiling.

Buffy smiled back before saying to him and Willow, "Have a killer weekend, guys!"

They both nodded as the Chosen One headed off to join her father. Mr. Summers came up the steps and hugged his daughter, saying, "Oh, sweetheart! It's so good to see you again!" Buffy's dad then let go of her and asked, "So, how was your day?"

Buffy smiled. "Fine. You know, usual."

It was kinda depressing, actually, how misleading yet true his friend's statement was. Gak; when did the weirdness become such a huge part of their lives? Jesse didn't know – all he knew was that it had, and he had no idea how to make it stop!

"So what was yours?" Willow's voice distracted him from the sight of Buffy and her father getting into the car, and Mr. Summers driving off towards Revello Drive to collect his daughter's stuff for their weekend together. "I mean, what was your worst nightmare come to life?"

"Uh, you first," he demurred, flushing with embarrassment as they turned around and headed back towards the school.

Willow shrugged slightly. "I lost control of my magic. And we're talking hearing everyone's voices shouting in my head, and all the classroom furniture flying around, a-and a chair nearly decapitating me. How about you?"

{ _Decapitation? Oh, yeah, that Brotherhood of Seven demon, and what it almost managed to pull off. Not surprising, I guess._ } Jesse exhaled loudly. "Any chance I can skip out of this particular confession, Will?"

"No," Willow said determinedly. "I told you mine, so you gotta tell me yours!"

"It's stupid," he said, almost squirming.

"What? It's more stupid than Wesley's mom showing up and saying she wished that she'd never had a son at all, let alone a disappointment like him?" she demanded.

"Well, I'd say so, yeah," Jesse nodded as they entered the main building. "I mean, you'd think that Hellmouth and all, my worst nightmare would be a Vampire Cordelia or something like that, right? But instead, it was..."

"WHAT?"

"Uh, while I was in the school basement? Somehow, I ended up on stage in a medieval nobleman's outfit, alongside the female lead in Shakespeare's _Romeo and Juliet_. My nightmare was performing on stage as an actor, in front of a huge-ass audience," he admitted, feeling ashamed.

"Really? Well, I don't think that's stupid," Willow insisted as they arrived outside the library. "I mean, that disaster with the talent show and all, plus – well, I used to have nightmares about being Cio-Cio-San, in Puccini's _Madame Butterfly_! And being forced to sing opera in public! So I can totally get where you're coming from."

They entered Slayage HQ, as Jesse pondered that for a moment. { _Huh. Maybe Will's right, and I don't need psychiatric help after all? Maybe none of us do, even though we're living on a Hellmouth –_ }

Then he saw Xander sitting in one of the chairs at the main table, looking worried – and Cordelia was sitting there beside him, looking totally freaked out.

{ _Then again, maybe I spoke too soon!_ }

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** You know, the funny thing is I once swore to myself that I wouldn't ever use anything from the Buffy season 8 comics in my fanfics - and yet, here I am doing so! Just goes to show that you never really know what you'll have to do, in order to further the plot of a story.

I hope you didn't get too confused by Cordelia's nightmares, either; hey, formerly possessed and currently hormonal female teenager, the inside of her head would be a _strange_ place nowadays! Plus I know I skipped over a lot of "Nightmares", but since I'm sure that over 99% of the audience has either seen or is familiar with the events of the episode, you can easily fill in the blanks for yourselves.

Anyway, thanks as always for reading, and please tell me what you thought of the chapter!


	32. Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me

**Chapter Thirty-two: Hold Me, Thrill Me, Kiss Me, Kill Me**

 **Spike's warehouse lair, Sunnydale**

 **April 18** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

{ _Bloody_ _ **sodding**_ _hell!_ } Spike cursed, dodging this way and that – as utter bedlam spread everywhere. { _What's going on 'ere?!_ }

It was impossible to figure out, basically. One moment it had been a perfectly normal Friday afternoon inside the lair, everyone waiting for sunset before going out to feast on the mortals – and the next, chaos had been unleashed everywhere.

Some of the minions had started screaming in pain, as columns of sunlight somehow appeared directly above them; and then they'd exploded into flames and crumbled into ashes, thanks to the deadly daylight. Others had started yelling in agony after being becoming soaking wet, and then they'd suffered the same fate. Holy water, obviously –

There had also been random stakings and beheadings, and even his beloved Drusilla hadn't been immune to the impossible insanity – she'd started ranting and raving, before running away screaming from some smiling Mary Poppins type. { _Hang about, don't tell me she went outside?! Dammit, Dru, the sun's still up! You're gonna –_ }

"Hello, William."

Spike's lukewarm blood almost froze throughout his undead body. He _**knew**_ that female voice – but no, it wasn't possible! She'd been dust for months!

"Happy to see me? No, of course you aren't. Not after the way you and Drusilla simply _**abandoned**_ me that night," Darla added challengingly, as Spike turned to face his great-grandsire. "Cowards, the both of you."

"You, you can't be here – this isn't ruddy possible!" Spike snarled at her, going into his game face.

"Well, of course it is," another familiar voice – a male one – said, before Spike felt someone grab him by the neck. "We're here because you fear it. Everyone's nightmares are being made flesh," the Master added, an evil smile on his deformed, demonic face. "Such a cliché, isn't it?"

"This is a nightmare?" Spike demanded. "So how the hell do I wake up, you pasty-faced git? Urkkkk –"

"Manners, Spike," Darla said reprovingly, yet with an amused look on her face as the Master briefly choked him. She grabbed hold of one of his arms as Heinrich released his throat and grabbed the other arm, and then the former whore added, "Plus, it's obvious you still don't understand, little boy. The Master and I aren't your worst nightmare come to life."

"Yer not?" Spike demanded thickly, briefly struggling against the hold they had on him.

"No. I believe _**she**_ is," the Master said laughingly, as Spike's eyes went wide seeing the bloody Slayer approaching him!

"Like hell!" Spike yelled angrily, again struggling to get free – and again failing miserably to do so, as Betty came closer. "I've killed two effin' Slayers! No sodding way I'm afraid of this one!"

"You should be," the dumb bint stopped just a few inches away from him, close enough that he could actually smell her excitement. "You really should be, Spike. And you wanna know why?"

Without warning, the Slayer dropped the stake before she leaned forward and kissed him hungrily. Spike was literally unable to think as those warm, delicious-tasting lips engulfed his own cold ones, short-circuiting his brain. Then he managed to focus enough to hear her say, "Because _**I'm**_ your destiny, bottom line."

"What the-?" Spike spluttered in disbelief. "Wot's goin' on? What'd you do _**that**_ for?!"

"Oh, Spike, Spike, Spike. Guys can be so challenged," the exasperating chit sighed theatrically. "Don't you get it? You're mine, even if you don't know it yet. In the end, you'll choose me over Drusilla –"

"Like _**hell**_ I will!" Spike roared, immediately furious. "That's the biggest load o' bull I've ever heard! Wot kinda nightmare is this?! Complete tosh, that's what it is –"

"Is that what you think, William?" the Master interjected silkily. "Well, if you're so sure of that – then why don't you go ask that Oracle acquaintance of yours, whether that's true or not? See what answer that mortal boy gives you."

"And don't blame us if you don't like the answer you receive," Darla added with a chuckle. "After all, that Buffy girl has beaten you up a lot over the past few months. And for you – that's like getting to third base or something, isn't it?"

"Shut it, ya dumb slag!" Spike yelled angrily at her. Then his eyes went wide, as Buffy started taking off her top. "Oy! What the-?!"

"Take me, Spike! I'm yours!" the Chosen One said pleadingly, before kissing him again. "God, I want you so much! I mean, those washboard abs are like _**so**_ drool-worthy!"

"NOOOOO!" Spike yelled, infuriated and – even though he refused to admit it – slightly turned on. "Get away from me, Slayer, you've gone completely mental! And never gonna happen! Ya hear me?! NEVER!"

"Well, really, William. You don't need to get so upset about all this," the Master chucked, still holding his arm tightly.

"What he said. Seriously – if I didn't know better, Spike, I'd say you were actually contemplating cheating on Dru with our sworn enemy," Darla laughed mockingly, before trying to wrench his other arm out of its socket.

"AUGGGHHHH!" Spike yelled in pain, before without any warning – the nightmare abruptly ended.

No more columns of sunlight. No more holy water showers. No more Slayer, and no more deceased members of the Order of Aurelius.

{ _Grrrf. Auggh! And 'ere I thought that shitty Hellmouth was s'posed ta work for us, 'stead of against us?_ } Spike asked rhetorically, before putting the nightmare out of his mind and starting to look for his beloved Drusilla.

* * *

 **Somewhere on Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

 **A while later**

Cordelia was feeling totally weirded out, as her boyfriend drove her home in her BMW. Because she was still trying to deal with all the shocking, all the _ **unbelievable**_ things that had happened this afternoon.

She'd briefly become possessed by that Hyena spirit again? Not to mention she'd been nine months pregnant, even if it was only for roughly two minutes! What the hell? She'd actually become a virgin mother? 'Cause something like that hadn't happened for roughly two thousand years or so, right?

No, wait. That hadn't been an immaculate conception, or whatever! Well, okay, maybe technically – but Xander had been the father, not the Holy Spirit or whoever was responsible for what the Virgin Mary had gone through. Not that she was complaining who... the father... was...

{ _Now you're getting it,_ } that snide and irritating voice spoke up from the back of her mind, sounding amused. { _That part wasn't actually a nightmare, was it? Not once did your subconscious fight back against the concept of giving birth to the Dorkhead's spawn. It felt goddamn weird, yes; but wrong? No. If anything, it felt like the most natural thing in the world!_ }

Oh, shut up! So what if the concept of being a mother obviously agrees with me? I mean, despite what happened today, I'm not ready for that yet!

{ _Aren't you?_ } Snide  & Irritating voice asked laughingly. { _Because sixteen or not – it wasn't that long ago you did your best to get the Dumbass to impregnate you, after all._ }

Hey! I was possessed at the time!

{ _Well, sure. But there's something you obviously haven't considered yet; something your boyfriend freely admitted to you in that school corridor. So you should think carefully about what that means, before you decide that Xander Harris is truly the one you want as the father of your children._ }

Cordelia frowned, not getting that as Xander hit the button for the main gates and then drove up the main drive towards the house. So she went over the conversation with her boyfriend from earlier on very carefully; and just as Harris killed the ignition and got out of the vehicle, it finally hit her what that annoying inner voice had been talking about.

Ending up nine months pregnant and about to give birth wasn't _**her**_ nightmare. It was Xander's.

What exactly did this fact indicate?

As the passenger side door opened and the Dweeb reached in to help her out of the car, Cordelia _**moved**_. Quick as a flash, she was out of her seat, her hands grabbing Xander by the shirt as she snarled at him, "YOU!"

"Huh? What –" Harris looked astonished, not even trying to break her grip. "Cordy?"

"Your worst nightmare is me being pregnant with your kids," she snarled at him, as Xander's eyes went wide. "So, is that what you really think of me? That I'm not good enough for you to eventually settle down with, and have a family with? I oughta break your kneecaps for that, you asshole – just for starters!"

"NO! God, no, Cordy – it's not that, please believe me; you've got it all wrong!" the lamer started to babble. "That's not – my, my nightmare's got nothing to do with _**you**_. I just... hey, when the time comes, I, I'm sure you'll be a great mom! And I'd be the luckiest guy on Earth if I – uh, I mean – well, you gotta know that I already lucked out light years beyond what I deserved, what with how I constantly kept pushing you away this year!"

"Then what?" Cordelia demanded, loosening her grip on his shirt slightly and scowling at him. "If you don't have a problem with me, then what the hell was all that in the school corridor about?"

Xander sighed. "It's complicated."

"So _un_ complicate it," she growled immediately. "Because I want answers, Lame Boy. And I want them right now!"

He exhaled again. "Promise you'll keep this strictly between us? 'Cause I trust you and all, but – part of this is confidential Harris family material, sweetheart. Not something I want to end up as gossip amongst the Scooby Gang."

Cordelia frowned, before letting go of her boyfriend completely. "Fine, I promise. Now spill!"

Xander looked away. "Um, I guess – well, there's two reasons why I'm afraid of something like that happening. The first one – okay, you know about my father. Even though he's gotten better over the past nine months, I'm still afraid that one day, he'll revert back to what he was like before your dad set him up with that AA guy. That's part of why I'm kinda terrified of becoming a father myself – I can't help worrying that I'll end up bitter and resentful like he was, and take it out on you. And any kids that might show up in our lives."

Cordelia gaped at him in disbelief. "Are you nuts?! Xander, that's gotta be the most _**ridiculous**_ thing I've ever heard!"

"Cordy –"

"I mean, do you even for one _micro_ second think that I'd put up with that sort of crap from _**any**_ guy? Even you?!" she barked at him angrily. "I'd kick your ass and straighten you out, at the very first sign of you becoming some sort of drunken idiot! And if you don't believe me, I'd be glad to prove it to you!"

"NO! I mean, no, honey, I believe you," Idiot Boy immediately replied, looking nervous. "It's just – one of my issues. Like I said, nothing to do with you; it's my own personal fear," he shrugged. "Something I have to work on, obviously. But please, don't think that means I don't want to be with you – 'cause I do. I really do. A lot more than I woulda thought possible, this time last year."

"Well, duh!" Cordelia snarked, even though she was pleased to finally hear that admission from her significant other. Then she focused and said, "Okay, that's one reason. What's the other one?"

Xander sighed again. "Honey, I already know you're not gonna like it. Any chance that I-?" He took one look at her face and then shook his head, "Nope, obviously not."

"Well?!" she demanded, crossing her arms and folding them under her breasts.

"Cordelia, right or wrong... I'm worried that I'm holding you back from reaching your full potential."

"What?!"

"I'm sorry, but I can't help it! Whether that's running your dad's company one day, or walking down the red carpet as an international movie star, or becoming the first female President of the United States, or whatever. Cordy, you're like the Poster Girl for Rich and Successful! So whenever I think about the future, I can't help asking myself – why would someone like you want to be saddled with kids fathered by someone like me?"

{ _Oh, you_ _ **asshole!**_ } Cordelia angrily snarled, "Did LOVE never occur to you, you freaking retard?!"

{ _Oh my God!_ } There was a moment of silence, as the L-word echoed in her ears. She could see the big jerk looking utterly stunned after hearing that, and so she babbled, "Not that I'm saying I love you right now, of course! I'm just stating that, y'know, if-if we do get married in roughly five years' time, well – we'd _**have**_ to love each other by that point, right? And, and, when we got around to having kids, it wouldn't be because I was possessed by a Hyena or something, it'd be because they'd get created out of love and we'd both want them and I –"

"Cordelia?" Goof Boy interrupted her softly, his eyes still huge. "Have you really fallen in love with me?"

{ _Oh ye gods, he just_ _ **had**_ _to ask that!_ } "I... well, uh, over the past few months, you've kinda grown on me a lot – kinda like a Chia pet, you know? And sure, I've often wondered if it's just tawdry teen lust, or pure insanity, but I – well, maybe I do love you. And if that's true, I – mmpph!"

Cordelia was initially surprised to feel Xander's lips on her own, but surprise quickly turned into passion and desire – before the Dork pulled back and said, "Cordelia? I think I love you too."

{ _WHAT?!_ } She could tell just by looking into his eyes that her boyfriend was serious, and that almost made her faint from the shock factor! "You, you do?"

"Yeah. I-I-I've been thinking about it for a while, y'know? Uh, ever since that night you were de-possessed. And I eventually came to the conclusion that it's pretty much got to be love – there's no other explanation I can think of why I can't stay broken up with you," he shrugged slightly. "Like I told you once before, I have... feelings for you. Have done for months now. And – yeah. I love you," he confessed.

Her heart almost exploded in a supernova of happiness, as she grabbed him by the shirt again and kissed her honey like her life depended on it. Cordelia honestly wasn't sure what she was going to do next – whether she would drag Xander's ass into the back seat of her car, or upstairs to her bedroom, in order to celebrate their newly declared love in the... traditional way.

But it didn't really matter.

Because her mother chose that moment to stagger out the front door of the mansion, holding a bottle of tequila in one hand and a slice of lemon in the other.

"That didn't happen," Julia Chase practically slurred her words together, causing her and Xander to stop kissing and look at the parental unit in surprise. "David didn't divorce me. My daughter doesn't hate me! I'm not dirt poor. That _**didn't**_ happen!"

{ _Oh, geez!_ } With just a look, Cordelia knew that Xander already understood as they let go of one another, and raced over to the front of the mansion. "It's okay, Mother! I'm right here. And you're right, I don't hate you! That was all just a nightmare!" she said urgently.

"Cordelia? And – Alexander, is that you?" the middle-aged blonde asked blearily.

"Yeah, Mrs. Chase, it's me," Xander said reassuringly. Then his eyes turned green, sparkling and shimmering in the afternoon sunlight –

" _It is far better to accept the situation as it is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying that may be. So put this behind you and be there for your daughter in the future, instead of simply abandoning her to her fate."_

{ _Huh? WHAT?_ } Cordelia asked herself in disbelief, staring at her boyfriend and then at her mother. { _Is Xander actually saying Mother would have – no, no way! She wouldn't have! Would she?_ }

She then noticed Xander snap out of it – same as always, he couldn't remember what the heck he'd just said, or that he'd even said anything – and gently guide the totally inebriated blonde back inside the house, before gently prising the tequila out of her grasp. Cordelia slowly followed them into the depths of the mansion, wondering if her mother had actually heard her boyfriend's words – and if so, whether she'd follow his 'advice.'

She definitely hoped so, after everything that had happened so far this year.

* * *

 **Somewhere on Hyperion Boulevard, Los Angeles**

 **Later that night**

Liam continued his patrol of the neighborhood, paying attention to all the sounds and smells around him as carefully as he could. Unfortunately, even though he still had the vampire-level strength and the knowledge of how to use it after drinking that witch's brew Whistler had given him, his hearing and sense of smell were now pathetically human – and it felt like he had cotton wool stuffed into his ears and nose!

His mentor had told him that he would get used to it, and both Doyle and his wife had backed up the Messenger on that. The half-Brachen demon had also told him to quit with the whole self-flagellation thing and just live his life, but Liam knew his friend just didn't understand...

{ _I did a lot of damage in my day, more than Doyle or Harry could ever imagine,_ } Liam thought to himself. { _And living a normal nine-to-five existence now isn't going to make up for all the deaths I'm responsible for – both as Angelus, and Angel. Besides, the human world has all sorts of systems in place to help out those who need it, during the daylight hours. But those people don't see the weak ones lost in the night, or the things that prey on them. If I do what Doyle suggests, odds are I'd stop seeing them, too –_ }

He heard a crashing noise nearby, and ran off to investigate. Liam was then somewhat astonished to witness a Kaliff demon assaulting a pair of teenagers –

"Hey! Why don't you pick on someone your own size? Or even your own species?!" Liam demanded.

The demon growled, tossing the humans aside – they were just teenagers, from the looks of it – and then the demon grabbed a beam of wood off the ground. "Wrong time, wrong place, and wrong guy to interrupt!" it snarled at him.

"Well, I dunno about that," Liam caught the wooden beam in one hand, and hit the Kaliff hard enough that he went flying backwards. "It's my time, and this is my city, after all."

"Smartass," the demon growled again, getting up off the ground. He charged the former vampire – but Liam merely jumped upwards, grabbed an overhead pipe and swung both feet into the demon's chest. Again, the bad guy went flying backwards.

"Who the hell are you?!" the evil thing growled, now looking completely pissed off.

{ _Well, I'm definitely not the Caped Crusader, no matter what jokes Doyle and Harry like to make in private!_ } Liam readied himself, tossing the wooden beam aside as the demon attacked with a flurry of punches and kicks. Moving around like a dancer, he managed to parry or avoid them all, waiting for the bad guy to make a mistake which he could use to –

 _ **WHAM!**_

Liam blinked, looking at the blonde girl who had hit the demon on the back of his head with the wooden beam he'd tossed aside. Then he winced as the female teen – she looked to be Buffy's age, more or less – started hitting the unconscious demon on the head, killing him in a very messy and unprofessional way. He waited until he was sure the Kaliff was officially deceased before he grabbed the weapon off of her and said roughly, "Enough! He's dead. You've made your point!"

"Have I?" the blonde demanded, staring him down with an intensity he hadn't expected. Then she frowned, "Hey, do I know you?"

Liam frowned as well. "You _**do**_ look somewhat familiar, but I'm not sure where – wait, now I remember!" He moved back slightly. "We met recently in Sunnydale. Uh, not that we were formally introduced or anything, since you were possessed by a Hyena spirit at the time – you and four others?"

The girl's eyes went wide, and it was obvious she remembered him now too. But then her attention went back to the boy who was still unconscious on the ground, not far away. "Tor!" She rushed to his side, urgently checking him for injuries. "Tor, are you okay?"

The boy – Tor – eventually woke up, groaning loudly. "What the hell?"

"It's okay, we're safe – for now," the girl said reassuringly. "But I'm pretty damn sure L.A. isn't the place for us, hon. Just as bad as Sunnydale, when it comes to the monsters!"

"What? I mean – uh, did you two run away from home or something?" Liam asked, feeling confused.

"What's it to you – hey, do I know you?" Tor asked, blinking and getting up off the ground.

"Name's Liam," he replied, getting the annoying feeling that he'd started going around in circles or something. "And like I just said to your friend here, we met recently in Sunnydale. That night at the Hyena House, remember?"

"Vaguely," the boy replied, narrowing his piercing blue eyes. Then he winced, most likely from the pain from his head injury. "Look, thanks for the assist or whatever, but I think it's time Heigh-ho and I got going. What do you think, sweetheart – we try hitch-hiking our way to Vegas?"

"Better than going back to Sunnyhell," the girl – her real name couldn't possibly be 'heigh ho', in Liam's view – replied with a look of distaste. "But we ought to get your head looked at first, Tor. No sense in taking any chances, especially after what happened earlier today –"

"Something happened in Sunnydale earlier today?" Liam interrupted, instantly worried about Buffy.

"Everyone's worst nightmares came to life, somehow," Tor replied, which caused his heart to almost stop beating. "Figured that whatever Xan said about me finding my true path after a lot of ups and downs, it wasn't gonna happen in that town. So I grabbed my girlfriend, we packed a few things, and then split on the first bus out of town."

"And now you're heading for Las Vegas? Well, there are demons there as well, you know," Liam replied, quickly figuring out that this 'Xan' person had to be his Oracle acquaintance. "There are demons everywhere in this world; it was their world first, before humanity eventually took over."

"They can't be _**everywhere**_ ," the blonde insisted. "Tor and me, we'll find some place where we'll be safe, where we can finish high school and then get married and have a family. Whether that's Vegas or somewhere else, I don't care! We'll find _**somewhere**_!"

"Well, good luck with that," Angel shrugged, wishing them all the best but secretly doubting their chances of success. { _Kids these days..._ } "Anyway, there's a hospital not far away – St. Charles. If you want, head north 'til you get there, and get your boyfriend's head checked out in their ER department."

"Thanks for the advice," Tor nodded slowly (and painfully, from the look on the boy's face). "So, what's your connection to Xan and Cordelia, anyway?"

"I barely know the girl, but Harris – we're, uh, acquaintances, I guess you could say. That Oracle used to be my conduit to Buffy and her Watcher," Liam shrugged.

"Xander's an Oracle?" the girl – he _**still**_ didn't know her name! – said with a wide-eyed look of surprise.

"And a Watcher? You mean the Brit librarian? What's he supposed to be watching? Or who?" Tor demanded.

"It's probably safer for you if you don't know," Liam replied, backing away and cursing himself for assuming that these two knew everything. "That particular organization doesn't like anyone knowing of their existence, after all." He turned and quickly walked away, shoving his hands into his black leather duster and ignoring the voices of the two teens, still demanding answers.

Hopefully, in time, they'd forget about all this. Humans did that in order to maintain their sanity, after all, especially in Sunnydale.

Not that he had any chance of ever forgetting about Buffy, of course.

* * *

 **Spike's warehouse lair, Sunnydale**

 **April 21** **st** **, 1997**

Spike was not in a good mood, and that was putting it lightly.

Ever since that bloody _**nightmare**_ few days back, the number of minions at his disposal had been drastically reduced. Most of 'em had gotten themselves killed thanks to their own fears, the useless gits! And even the ones who had survived were of practically no use now. Slinking around afraid of their own shadows, the lot of them –

"Spoike?" Drusilla's voice distracted him from his musings, as he looked around at his sire. "Oh, now, darling, don't be such a worrywart! Shh. Shh. You'll make it right. I know."

He couldn't help smiling at his maker's absolute faith in him. "I know, luv. I will. I –" Spike abruptly noticed Dalton waiting not far away, and immediately snarled, "Wot? Can't ya tell I'm busy 'ere?!"

"Yes, sir. I, I just thought you'd like to know – uh, Jerome and Phillip didn't come back this morning, after you sent them out on their... um, recruitment drives," the scholarly vampire said nervously. "Either they decided to leave the Hellmouth, or –"

Spike instantly got it. "That bloody Slayer! Dammit, whenever I turn around, she's muckin' up the works somehow! Sod it, this has gotta stop." He went into his demon face. "I need to bring in the big guns. They'll take care o' her once 'n fer all!"

"The big guns, sir?" Dalton asked, a look of blank non-comprehension on his demonic features.

"The Order of Taraka, you dunce!" Spike yelled at him.

"The bounty hunters? Uh... sir, you know I'll do whatever you ask, but – hiring the Order won't be cheap, and... well, I mean, isn't that slightly overkill? Just for getting rid of the Chosen One?" the minion asked anxiously.

"No, that's just enough kill. Now get on with it!" Spike barked impatiently.

"Ohh..." Drusilla moaned and started to whine like a puppy, putting her hands to her head. "No, Spoike! No trio of guests to the party! That's just something the Bright Lady wanted to 'appen, so that the Kitten and the naughty girl could play nice fer a while. No, no, no..."

Spike felt both annoyance and concern after hearing his sire's words, before concluding she'd just had a clairvoyant episode of some kind. { _Eh, better safe th'n sorry!_ } "Alright, pet, whatever you say – we'll forget that whole thing with the Order, then. But seriously, Dru – we gotta do something about that effin' Slayer!"

Drusilla began to laugh, and Spike could tell that she'd just had another one of her visions. "Not to worry, my darling Willy. Soon, soon enough, her head'll get filled all full with lies..."

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Not sure why, but I felt like I had to include a short episode for Spike and Drusilla - in terms of their worst nightmares coming to life - before moving on from that part of the fic. See, it always struck me as rather odd how the Master and Collin appeared to be immune to that sort of thing - maybe Angel was too, who knows? - but in my world, _everyone_ is susceptible to Billy Palmer-induced nightmares! And before I forget, a fond farewell to Tor and Heidi; they've served their purpose, and we won't be seeing them again in this story. Anyway, thanks as always to everyone who's reading and reviewing and/or sending feedback! 'Tis more appreciated than you know.


	33. Visitations

**Chapter Thirty-three: Visitations**

 **Private residence, Los Angeles**

 **Late April, 1997**

* * *

Liam was feeling restless. He didn't know why – he just did.

It wasn't as if there hadn't been plenty to do lately – just the other day, he and Doyle had discovered a clandestine slave-gathering operation run by a demon named 'Ken' at the Family Home shelter. Well, that was before they'd ended up killing him and sealing that portal to a demon dimension, where time passed much faster than it did in this world.

{ _Kinda hard to believe how all those people we rescued couldn't say anything other than "I'm no one", to be absolutely honest,_ } Liam mused to himself. { _Sure, I've seen a lot over the past three centuries, and we're talking some seriously depraved evil; but something like that, it was just – disturbing. Reminded me way too much of what I – what Angelus – did to Drusilla._ }

Liam was distracted from his thoughts by a knock at the front door. { _Who could that be?_ } He got up off the couch and opened up, only to a find a middle-aged guy wearing tweed standing there – alongside a dark-haired woman who looked slightly familiar...

"Can I help you?" Liam asked politely.

"Ah, yes, good evening. I'm Rupert Giles," the man introduced himself, with a distinct British accent – upper-class Oxbridge, if he was any judge of such things.

"And I'm Janna of the Kalderash clan," the woman added, which instantly caused Liam to take a step back. "Well, formerly, anyway."

"You were in Sunnydale. I used to catch the occasional glimpse of you on the street," Liam replied, his tone hardening upon realizing who and what the gypsy woman was. "You were there spying on me?"

Janna shrugged and replied, "Yes. But keep in mind I was raised by the people you – or rather, your soulless undead alter ego – hurt the most. My duty to them was the first thing I was ever taught, and so I obeyed my uncle's orders without question. I didn't know that once you managed to become human, they'd cast me out for failing to prevent it; and that's why I no longer have any loyalty to the clan, or its vaida."

"Vaida? I, I don't know that word," Mr. Giles said hesitantly, looking at the gypsy.

"It means head man, or chief, or something equivalent in the old Romany dialect," he said impatiently. "All right, fine. Now that the introductions are out of the way, what are you two doing here?"

"Ah, well, I was hoping we could talk. Could we, err, possibly discuss this inside?" the Englishman requested, gesturing towards the interior of the apartment. "Some of what I have to say is rather, um, confidential in nature."

"And that's my cue to go shopping at the Beverly Center mall," Janna smirked, before reaching up and giving Mr. Giles a brief kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back in two hours, England. Do try not to bore the ex-vampire to death with endless questions, will you?"

"Err, of course," the man promised hastily, removing his glasses and polishing them furiously as the woman turned around and began walking back to her car parked on the street. Liam noticed how the Brit's eyes lingered on her rear end just a little too long for it to be accidental, before the man put his glasses back on and focused on him. "So, um, Angel –"

"It's Liam now," he interrupted immediately. "And since you're obviously aware of who I was, the door's open – if you can come in."

"Alright," Mr. Giles nodded his head slightly, and entered the apartment. He looked around and said, "Um, no offense, but the accommodations do seem rather – spartan, don't they?"

"I like my space," Liam shrugged, ignoring the minor insult. Both Doyle and his wife had often said the same thing to him, after all. "Now, you wanted to talk?"

"Well, yes," Mr. Giles nodded his head again. "Shall we sit down?"

"As you wish," Liam assented, and he waited until his companion was firmly ensconced upon the velvet paisley-covered Chesterfield sofa. "Okay, let's hear it."

"I..." Mr. Giles trailed off. "Well, there's really no point beating around the bush, is there? Liam, I'm with the Council of Watchers of Great Britain, and I –"

"I'm not interested in talking about the past," he interrupted the Englishman again. "And even if I was, I'd talk to Wyndam-Pryce rather than anyone else in your organization. Better the devil you know, and all that."

"Yes, ah, perfectly understandable," Mr. Giles briefly hesitated, and took off his glasses again. "But I'm afraid you've misunderstood my purpose here – you see, I didn't come to talk about the past two hundred and fifty years, however valuable such knowledge would be. I'm here on behalf of the Council to propose a – well, an alliance, I suppose is the best word for it."

Liam's jaw dropped. "Are you serious? The Council wants to ally itself with a former _**vampire?!**_ "

"That _**was**_ the reaction from a lot of people within the Conservative and the Traditionalist factions, I'll freely admit. But the Progressives are a bit more – broad-minded," Mr. Giles gestured slightly. "One of our surveillance teams in this city has been monitoring your activities recently, and that's how I know you've been fighting the good fight since leaving the Hellmouth –"

"Stop," Liam raised an arm palm outward, trying to keep his annoyance under control. "Look, Mr. Giles – I'll admit that what you're saying does make sense, on one level. There's strength in numbers, and my personal mission of atonement does mesh with your agenda of making sure the planet stays in one piece for the foreseeable future. But the problem is, I know the Council a lot better than you might think – and you can't tell me that the upper echelons view Slayers as anything but expendable weapons. What's to prevent them from thinking the exact same thing about me?"

"You are unique, and possibly irreplaceable. The, the Vampire Slayer isn't. If one falls, another will be Chosen. That's the way it's always been," the Englishman replied simply.

"And you don't see how someone like me might have a problem with that? That I don't like how your organization's sent Buffy on a suicide mission, stationing her there on the Hellmouth?"

"Ah," Mr. Giles leaned back on the sofa. "Now we begin to get to the heart of the matter. N-not that I know Miss Summers personally, of course, but you obviously do – and you've let your emotions blind you to the facts. Wyndam-Pryce did report how you were, ah, quite enamored of the current Chosen One, after all."

"What facts are you referring to?" Liam was now getting annoyed.

"The Slayer fights the evil in this world. Therefore she does not – she cannot – die of old age," Mr. Giles replied, with an oddly compassionate look on his face. "And quite frankly – that's why I'd have thought you'd like to ally yourself with us, if only to help Miss Summers stay alive for as long as possible."

Liam glared at the English pig, even though he couldn't help acknowledging that the other man did have a valid point there. He _**did**_ want Buffy to live for as long as possible, to experience everything life had to offer – even if the odds were that she would die long before she even managed to graduate high school. { _A husband, children – she deserves all that and more. Dammit, it's just not fair! Buffy didn't deserve to be_ _ **cursed**_ _that way!_ }

"There's, ah, also something else," Mr. Giles added diffidently, a moment later.

"What?"

"I can't say – I'm under an unbreakable vow not to do so. However, I can tell you that it will take place at some point during May – and it affects Miss Summers personally," Mr. Giles said, staring him right in the eyes. "That's why I'm hoping that you'll reconsider the idea of an alliance, in return for me attempting to convince my superiors to let you in on the secret?"

Liam went still. He suddenly remembered Whistler telling him that he would learn why he had to become human around May, during that _**memorable**_ night roughly two months ago. Did that have anything to do with what this Council lackey had just mentioned? "Keep talking."

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **May 1** **st** **, 1997**

"I love spring time," Cordelia proclaimed to her boyfriend, her arm curled around Xander's waist. "You've got bright spring fashions, the upcoming Spring Fling dance –"

"The end of sophomore year," Harris interrupted, smiling.

"Pretty soon, yeah. My favorite time of the year!" She giggled, "Can't wait to see you wearing a tux in a few weeks' time, Dork. I am, of course, having my dress specially made for the dance. Off the rack gives me hives!"

"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. And I got me no doubts you'll be the prettiest girl there!" He then lost the smile, as a contemplative look slid fleetingly across his face.

"What?" Cordelia demanded at once.

"It's nothing –"

"Don't lie to me!" She abruptly came to a halt and glared at him, before saying, "'Cause that's the one thing I can _not_ forgive, Doofus! Anything else, we can work around it if we have to – I've invested a lot in 'us' over the past six months or so, after all. But lie to me, directly to my face? Well, screw Madam Devora's prophecy that we'll get married two and a half years after Graduation – I'll dump your ass faster than a stale turd! Comprendez?"

"Yeah, honey, I hear ya," Xander nodded and sighed, before she took him by the hand and they started walking again. "Okay, fine. It's just, everything you've given up for us to be together? That bothers me – maybe it shouldn't, but it does anyway! Like, you'd have been a sure thing for May Queen if not for me – and the way all your friends rejected you? I mean, it's great that you can more or less get along with Willow and Jesse nowadays, and Buffy too, but I know you –"

"And I know you," she interrupted, putting a finger to his lips as they came to a halt again. "This is all because you feel guilty over the fact that we've got each other, whereas those three are all alone. Isn't it? Little Miss Likes-To-Fight because she always has to pretend to be something she's not, with a potential boyfriend. And Nerd Girl and Stalker Boy because, deep down – they still want something they can't have."

"Not sure you're right where Will is concerned, the way she talks to guys at the Bronze all the time now – but Jesse? Well, you're in a better position than me to judge, sweetheart," her boyfriend shrugged. "You're kinda built to notice these things, after all."

{ _That's true, I so am!_ } "Hrmm. Yeah. Come to think of it? Maybe that spaz _**has**_ moved on, after all," she frowned, biting her lower lip slightly. "It's been a while since McNally's looked at me that way."

"What way?"

"Like an adoring puppy, the kind you want to put to sleep!" Cordelia easily ignored Xander's despairing look and added, "Where the hell is that horny idiot, anyway?"

* * *

 **A broom closet, elsewhere at Sunnydale High School**

 **The same time**

{ _UHH! UHH! Oh, God, this is so wrong –_ }

That was all Aura was capable of thinking at the moment, as she and Jesse continued to suck face in the darkness of the utility closet. She definitely noticed, though, when McNally's hands somehow managed to get under her yellow and maroon cheerleader outfit while continually kissing the hell out of her. { _Oh, gods, how did he learn how to do tha- OHHH!_ }

"That's enough!" Aura abruptly pushed Jesse away from her. She tried to remember how the heck the weekly meetings to determine the status of Cordelia's welfare had turned into this – this _**craziness**_ between them, but unfortunately, she wasn't able to think too clearly right now. All she could say was, "You're _**not**_ going to go there, Dumbass. Groping's one thing, but I never gave you permission to go that far!"

"Uh, sorry?" McNally said sheepishly. He reached up for the light string and yanked it to turn it on. They stepped back a bit from each other as he added, "Guess I got a bit carried away."

"Well, obviously!" Aura snapped, straightening her clothes and her hair. "Wait, what time is it? Haven't we got English with Ms. Miller this period?"

"I don't know, I haven't got a watch," the useless loser shrugged.

"God, what am I even doing here with you?" Aura complained. "I _**must**_ be suffering from temporary insanity! It's the only possible rational explanation for all this!"

Jesse frowned. "Are you saying you think you're crazy for wanting to make out with me?"

"Well, duh! What do you think?!"

He shrugged, "All in all? I think this definitely isn't what you'd call a big confidence booster."

"As if you've got any in the first place!" she almost sneered at him. "I mean, seriously! You couldn't even manage to join one of the school's sports teams, after I asked you to do it?"

"Okay, you know what? I don't need this! You wanted to know about Cordelia, well – she's doing fine. She's totally happy with my best friend. So, are we done here?" McNally demanded heatedly.

"Hell, yeah!" Aura couldn't help snarling at him. They both reached for the broom closet doorknob at the same time, and their hands touched –

Instantly, she felt the same magical spark she'd been feeling for a while now, and she hesitated for a moment – but quickly giving in to passion and desire, Aura wrapped her arms around Jesse's neck as he started kissing her and she started kissing him.

{ _Oh, God, if anyone ever finds out I'm doing this, I'm doomed! Doomed, doomed, totally doomed!_ } Aura thought to herself breathlessly, as McNally reached up for the string and gave it a hard yank – plunging them into darkness once more.

* * *

 **English class, Sunnydale High**

 **A while later**

Ms. Miller said to her sophomore year class, quoting from _The Merchant of Venice_ ,"'If you prick us, do we not bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall we not revenge?'" She looked out at the class and added, "Okay. So how does what Shylock says here about being a Jew relate to our discussion about the anger of the outcast in society?"

Cordelia raised her hand and said, "Well, how about color me totally self-involved?"

Ms. Miller raised her eyebrows slightly. "Care to elaborate?"

"Yeah! With Shylock it's whine, whine, whine, like the whole world is about him. He acts like it's justice, him getting a pound of Antonio's flesh. But it's not justice, it's just yucky!" she proclaimed.

The teacher frowned, thinking it over. "But has Shylock suffered? What's his place in Venice society?"

Nerd Girl immediately raised her hand and said, "Well, everyone looked down on him."

Cordelia shot back, "That is such a Twinkie defense. Shylock should get over himself! People who think their problems are so huge craze me. Like the time I sort of ran over this girl on her bike – it was the most traumatizing event of _**my**_ life, and she's trying to make it about _**her**_ leg! Like _**my**_ pain meant nothing?!"

Willow shrugged, "I guess that'd depend if the girl in question decided to sue you and your family, for every penny you've got."

Cordelia glared at Willow, but just then the bell rang and all the students got up to leave. Ignoring the redhead, Cordelia exited the classroom. But Willow walked quickly to catch up with her, so she demanded, "What?"

"What was all that just now?" Nerd Girl demanded. "You haven't acted like a self-centered drama queen for ages, so why would you start again at this point?"

"Hey! I am not a self-centered drama queen! I totally resent that accusation," she said icily, as they headed towards the library.

"So, what? You decided to do something like that just for laughs? Uh-uh, not buying that one," Willow shook her head. "I know you, Cordelia. There's always a reason for everything you do! Is it – oh, are you and Xander having problems?"

"We're _**not**_ having problems," Cordelia semi-hissed at her. "God! Do you constantly have to stick your nose into our relationship? I mean, what's it going to take for you to realize that things aren't like they were this time last year – when it was you and Xander and Stalker Boy, against me and my popular friends?"

Willow blinked. "Where did all this come from? I mean, I know things are majorly different nowadays. Like, you and Xander are an item now, and always will be –"

"Don't be so sure. I threatened to dump him earlier today, if the Dumbass ever lies to me," she interrupted moodily.

"You did WHAT?"

"I have this thing about liars," Cordelia shrugged, as they arrived at Slayer Central. "I don't tolerate betrayal, Willow, not even from the guy I love –"

"You love Xander?! Already?!" Willow grabbed her arm as they came to a halt, the girl's sea-green eyes suddenly huge. "I mean, when did this happen? And, and does Xander feel the same way?"

"A few weeks ago, during the Day of the Living Nightmare. And yeah, he told me he loves me too, after I sorta confessed about my feelings." Off Willow's questioning look, she added, "Hey – I was nine months pregnant with Harris triplets at the time, okay? Not to mention Hyena Girl, all over again. Trust me, that sort of thing can _**seriously**_ mess with any girl's mind!"

"Yeah... but still, Xander never said anything?" Willow couldn't seem to get past that for some reason. "Oh, not about the possession! But the fact that he loves you – he never told me? Or Jesse?"

"Well, what would you have done if he _**had**_ told you?" Cordelia demanded. "Think it through, Willow; you'd have gone straight to the girls' bathroom to cry your eyes out. And Xander would rather slit his own throat than cause _**you**_ that sort of pain! Plus, you really think he would've rubbed the fact that I'm in love with him directly into McNally's face that way? I thought you knew the Dorkhead better than that!"

"Oh. Yeah. I guess you're right about that, that thing with Jesse," Nerd Girl frowned. "But seriously, I wouldn't have started crying after hearing that you two are in love. I mean, nowadays... I've more or less accepted the fact that Xander isn't mine, at least not that way. Never has been, and never will be, either."

Cordelia frowned. { _Well, this is unexpected! Welcome news, sure, but still – kinda unexpected._ } "Have you told him that?"

The redhead shook her head. "I'll leave that up to you. I mean, Xander – I'm pretty sure he knows how I feel about him, after what happened that night with Dr. Weirick, but if he hears it coming from you? It'll make it more _**real**_ for him, ya know? He'll finally accept it on a gut level that I've moved on. That I'm trying to find someone else, someone that's not him."

"Right. You know, it would simple things up _**so**_ much if you and McNally suddenly found yourselves attracted to one another," she sighed.

"Jesse? Cordelia, he's just a friend," Willow giggled briefly. "Oh, hey, did you know he once came up with this crazy idea for him and me to pretend to be dating, just to get you and Xander jealous? I told him no way, of course! I mean, that's almost as ridiculous as..." she trailed off, looking suddenly pensive.

"What?" Cordelia demanded, as Willow trailed off.

"I just had an idea! I'll see you later..." Nerd Girl semi-babbled, before she took off running.

"Great," she grumbled, before entering the library.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School Library, Sunnydale**

 **A few moments later**

Wesley was feeling rather nervous, as today was the first day of the fifth month of the year; at long last, May had finally arrived. And that meant that Miss Summers and Mr. Harris could finally –

"Look," his Slayer said, sitting at the main table and looking around at her friends. "It's pretty obvious, in my view. If we're the Scooby Gang, then Xander is Freddy."

{ _What?_ } Wesley asked himself, feeling confused. { _I mean – what?_ }

"No I'm not!" the Oracle insisted. "If anything, I'm Shaggy."

"That makes about as much as sense as Buffy being Daphne," Miss Chase retorted, before sitting down next to her paramour.

{ _Daphne? What?_ } Wesley asked himself again, his confusion quickly becoming disbelief.

"Hey!" the Chosen One exclaimed, before shrugging. "Okay, fair point."

"Well, if I'm not Freddy, and I'm not Shaggy, then who am I?" Mr. Harris asked, looking confused.

"Scooby?" Mr. McNally suggested. "On account of you kinda go nuts over your snacks, and all."

The other boy frowned. "That's true," he said slowly.

"I'm not in a committed relationship with some lame, anthropomorphized dog," Miss Chase proclaimed, shaking her head. "If anything, Xander, you're Daphne; and Buffy is Freddy!"

"Huh?" both teenagers looked at the socialite in sheer incredulity. Wesley was right there with them, if not for the same reasons –

"Well, think about it! Xander's totally danger-prone, if not a redhead – I've lost track of how often he's put his life on the line for me! – and Buffy's sort of blonde, and the unofficial leader of this little group of social outcasts," Miss Chase replied, before she started examining her painted fingernails for any blemishes or imperfections.

The Slayer's eyes widened in terror. "I am? Uh, but what about Wes?"

"Uh-uh, no way Wesley is Freddy! I vote for him being Velma," Mr. Harris said, turning slightly to look at him. "He has the big Watcher brain, and he even has the glasses to go with."

"I beg your pardon?" Wesley asked slowly, with ever-increasing disbelief.

"Okay, so Wes is Velma. But what about me?" Mr. McNally asked, as all the teenagers ignored him yet again.

"You're Shaggy, I guess," Miss Summers said thoughtfully. "Okay, what about Willow?"

"What about Cordy?" Mr. Harris demanded.

"What, isn't it obvious?" the former cheerleader replied. "I'm the incredibly beautiful extra, who guest-stars in the movie-length special episodes!"

"All right, I'll buy that. But Willow? The only one left is Scooby, and no way she fits the bill there," Miss Summers shook her head.

"Depends. Have you seen her after she gets all hyped up on sugar? Right circumstances, Will could definitely qualify," the Oracle said firmly.

"All right, that's _**enough!**_ " Wesley suddenly roared; his patience finally at an end. "What on earth is the matter with all of you? This has to be the most ridiculous discussion I've ever heard! I mean _,_ comparing yourselves to _**cartoon**_ characters?! For heaven's sake –"

"Feeling better now?" Miss Summers interrupted, a cheeky grin on her face.

"Yeah, Wes. You've been looking like you need to de-stress all day," Mr. McNally added.

"I think Willow's dad calls it, um, catharsis?" Mr. Harris said uncertainly.

"Well, whatever it's called, you definitely needed it," Miss Chase said haughtily, staring down her nose at him. "Now that May's finally here, and everything."

"You – just now, all of you were, were..." he semi-spluttered in disbelief.

"Yup. You gotta lighten up, Wes," the Chosen One tsk'ed. "I mean, sure – you've improved a lot over the past four months, to the point where that stick up your ass has almost come out; but you're not quite there yet. So we decided to put on a bit of a show for you, to distract you from thinking about the Big Holy Mission for a while."

"Ridding this world of every vampire in it isn't – well, no, I-I-I suppose it _**could**_ be considered a holy mission, at that," Wesley replied, taking a moment to acknowledge that his Slayer had an unintentional point. "Still, thinking about such things is my _**job**_ , Miss Summers. So please don't do that again, alright?"

"Fine," the female teen sighed.

The double doors of the library then swung open, and two people walked into his library. "Hi. Do you guys mind if we interrupt you for a few minutes?" the former vampire – Liam – asked politely.

"You're back," Miss Summers noted, staring at Liam with an odd sort of intensity; before her gaze moved to the new arrival's companion. "And you brought a friend?"

"An ally, at least. I'm Rupert Giles, Slayer Summers – it's a pleasure, a-and an honor to make your acquaintance," the older Watcher nodded respectfully at her.

"You're a Watcher?" Mr. McNally asked, and Wesley couldn't help noting the way both he and Miss Chase moved to stand alongside the Oracle; not to mention how Mr. Harris was avoiding eye contact with both of the new arrivals.

"Uh, yes, I am," Mr. Giles nodded once, stiffly.

"Well, duh! The Teabag Central accent sort of gave it away," Miss Chase smirked.

"So where's your other friend – that Willow girl?" the former Angelus asked, looking around.

{ _Good question,_ } Wesley thought to himself. If anything, he'd have expected the young woman to have been present just now, taking part in that totally absurd conversation. { _Where is she, and what on earth is Miss Rosenberg up to?_ }

* * *

 **Main quad, Sunnydale High**

 **A short while earlier**

"Thank you for electing me this year's May Queen!" Harmony gushed, as Willow tried not to wince at the vacuous blonde's loud and overly-enthusiastic tone. She'd become trapped in the crowd on her way to another part of the school, and was now being forced to listen to the Kendall girl's acceptance speech. "I just want everyone to know I'm very proud and honored to have been chosen for the role, and I fully intend to live up to the heavy responsibility you've bestowed upon me..."

{ _Blah, blah, blah,_ } Willow couldn't help but tune out as Harmony prattled on about this and that. The cheerleader's looks couldn't even remotely make up for her personality, in the redhead's view, and so she waited impatiently until Harmony said, "I look forward to seeing everyone at the Bronze tomorrow night for the coronation. And remember, it's not about what your school can do for you; it's what you can do for Sunnydale High!"

{ _Finally!_ } Willow heaved a huge sigh of relief, as the students started to disperse. { _I swear, if I had to listen to another second of Harmony's speech, I would have – oh! Is that –_ }

"Ms. Calendar?!" she called out, overjoyed at seeing the former Computer Science teacher present on campus. "Ms. Calendar!" Willow worked her way over to the dark-haired woman. "Ms. Calendar!"

"Oh! Hello, Willow," Ms. Calendar said with a smile. "How's my favorite student doing?"

"Oh, thank God you're back," Willow babbled excitedly at high speed. "I mean, it's been awful since you left and Principal Snyder has been forcing me to teach your classes and even though I threatened to sue the school over it he just laughed in my face and I'm oh so glad you decided to return –"

"Willow! Please, stop," the older woman interrupted, looking like she was trying not to smile. "I'm just visiting Sunnydale High with some friends, I'm afraid. I'm sorry, but I'm not a teacher here anymore; and I never will be again, most likely."

"Oh. I see," Willow's face fell. "Well, um, then – can we sorta pretend I didn't say all that?"

"As you wish," Ms. Calendar smiled and nodded. "So, how are your studies going?"

"Um, okay, I guess," Willow replied, feeling a little downcast. "So, uh, visiting with friends?"

"Yes. I believe you know one of them, actually; the former vampire named Liam?"

Willow's eyes went huge, before Ms. Calendar guided her over to a nearby bench and confessed everything. That her real name was actually Janna, but now that her role as a spy was officially over, she had decided to live her life as Jenny Calendar. Hopefully even Jenny Giles, one day.

The former teacher's words actually supported her decision to help Jesse out in the romantic love department, at least in her mind; and so once they had parted company, Willow headed over to one of the empty science labs. She set up a potion she'd read about in Mrs. Madison's spell book, and set it to boiling in a beaker underneath a Bunsen burner.

"Harken ye elements, I summon thee now," Willow chanted. "Let this offering open the heart of Jesse's beloved, whoever she may be. May she neither rest nor sleep..." She dropped a yearbook photo of her McNally-shaped friend into the boiling mix, which sparked briefly. "...until she submits to her desire for him."

The flame of the burner expanded as the power of the spell suddenly emanated from the beaker, and swirled above it and between her hands.

"Land, sea, fire and wind. For passion's sake, let this love run free. So mote it be, so mote it be, so mote it be!" Willow finished up her spell, as the swirl of mystical energy began to return to the beaker and vanish.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **The next day**

Jesse was walking along the main hallway, heading for his locker and just – well, mostly just thinking about stuff.

Like the fact that a bunch of Watchers Council people had set up shop in Sunnydale yesterday, and apparently taken over City Hall; according to Wes, Mayor Finch had willingly let one of them take over his role in running the town. Well, just as long as the public didn't find out, anyway. Which said a lot about how much that guy knew regarding all the violent deaths around here!

He'd also heard that Wesley was being put under pressure by his bosses to find out who the Oracle relating to the prophecy was. Not surprising, therefore, that Cordelia was worried about Xander's health and safety. Also, Willow was upset about something – probably how Ms. Calendar hadn't resumed her teaching job around here, but maybe it was something else; like, the Willster had recently mentioned something about how awful both their love lives were –

"Jesse! Hi," Buffy came up to him with a big smile on her face, as she looped her arm through his as they walked along. "How's my favorite Slayerette doing today?"

{ _Huh?_ } Jesse blinked, staring at his friend. "Okay, I guess. You?"

"Eh, pretty good. I had a talk with that Liam guy yesterday, and I managed to put a few things into perspective. Ya know, from when I was briefly a vampire, during the Day of the Living Nightmare! I also had a long think about – other stuff," the brownish-blonde girl beamed at him.

"Okay, that's good," Jesse nodded, getting the feeling that something – he couldn't quite figure out what – wasn't exactly right here.

"So anyway, I was thinking – maybe I was a bit hasty about the whole 'us' thing," Buffy added, as they approached the library.

"Sure," Jesse nodded absently. Then her words fully impacted inside his brain. "What?"

Buffy came to a halt, still smiling at him. "I don't know, it's just – we're friends, aren't we? And the best relationships are often built on the foundations of a good friendship, right?"

"Huh? Okay, uh... you _**do**_ know that I'm Jesse McNally, don't you? The guy you said you were never going to date again, like, ever?" he said, disbelief clearly evident in his voice.

"Yeah, but ever since yesterday, it's like – well, it's like I'm actually seeing you for the first time, ya know?" Buffy leaned forward.

"No, not at all. Buffy, what's gotten into you?" Jesse instinctively leaned back, now feeling officially freaked.

"Hey, McNally, have you got a moment?" a familiar female voice asked, as Buffy started to lean in again – to kiss him, if he wasn't mistaken! "I was hoping we could talk."

Aura's voice seemed to snap Buffy out of it, as a confused look appeared on the Slayer's face. "I'll, I'll see you later," she said to him, as Jesse turned his attention to the cheerleader and the Chosen One quickly entered the library.

"Uh, Aura? Hey, what's going on? I, ah, I thought we agreed not to do the whole public conversation thing," Jesse asked, now feeling more confused than ever. { _What the hell's happening today? Have I just entered an episode of_ The Outer Limits _or something?_ }

"I know, but I saw you talking with that Summers girl just now. And I _**didn't**_ like how she was acting so touchy-feely with you!" Aura scowled at him. "Hey, are you cheating on me with her?"

"What?" Jesse blinked. "Uh, no! And – hang on, cheating? Since, since when are we a couple? I, uh, I thought all we had together was those make-out sessions in the school's utility closets?"

Aura suddenly smiled at him – and it was like the sun coming out from behind a cloud, as her entire face lit up. "Well, I guess I finally realized that I like spending time with you outside those mop closets. You're one heck of a good kisser, if nothing else! You know, it's funny how you can... how you can fail to realize what you've got, until you see another girl trying to claim it for herself. So – well, what do you think? Is it wrong to keep 'us' a secret any longer?"

"Huh?"

"Maybe I ought to introduce you to one or both of my parents, as well..."

The only thing Jesse could think was that the entire world had gone mad and that he had to get out of here, like right now. "I, uh, 'scuse me, Aura... I, I gotta go!"

* * *

 **Outside the Bronze, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

Jesse burst out of the teen club, having decided to run for it to avoid Aura and Buffy – who had most likely descended into a hair-pulling cat fight by now, totally disrupting Harmony's coronation as May Queen. As well as providing quite the spectacle for all their classmates to witness.

{ _I don't get it. They're_ _ **fighting**_ _over me? No, hang on – they're fighting over_ _ **me**_ _?_ } Jesse asked himself in pure disbelief, heading for the parking lot and his mother's car; which he'd borrowed for the evening, after finally passing his Driver's Ed. exam. { _Have those two completely lost it? They're acting like they're under a love spell or something! They're –_ }

A chill suddenly came over him, as the young man suddenly recalled what Willow had said the other day – that she was going to help him find his soul mate, or whatever it was she had called it. { _Oh, no. She wouldn't have! Would she? Oh, who am I kidding,_ _ **of**_ _ **course**_ _she would have! Whenever Willow thinks she's right and everyone else is wrong about something, she does whatever the heck she wants! Oh, man, after this mess gets fixed, I'm gonna have to nail that damn spell book of hers shut –_ }

"Well, who do we 'ave here? I do believe it's me old china from that night in Shadyhill Cemetery," a somewhat familiar male voice with a Cockney accent said in amusement, before an ice-cold hand wrapped itself around his neck and lifted him up off the ground. Jesse gurgled as Spike added, "Been a while, whelp. Now, where's the Slayer?"

He could only continue to choke incoherently as Spike went into his demon face and said, "C'mon, then, speak up! Or shall we just skip to the big finish, where I rip your throat out as a 'message' for Little Miss Tiny?" the soulless vampire grinned at him –

– just before a hand grabbed Spike by the shoulder, causing the undead guy to release his neck before the British vampire was thrown aside like a rag doll. Jesse fell down and, jumping to conclusions, he automatically said, "Buffy, how –"

"Now, don't fret," Drusilla said, lifting him up after Jesse more or less froze in horror. "Mummy's 'ere at last!"

"Wot? I don't know what you're up to, Dru, but it's _**not**_ funny!" Spike growled, before his sire growled back at him.

"If you harm one hair on this boy's head... I'll never forgive you, Spoike! Never, ever!" the female vampire pouted, while continuing to stroke his hair.

"You've gotta be kidding me. Him?!" Spike demanded incredulously, the disbelief written all over his demonic features.

"Uh, if it's any consolation, I'm pretty sure she's actually under a love spell of some kind," Jesse confessed nervously.

"WHAT?!" Spike roared, coming closer. "You cast some kinda spell on my Dru? I oughta rip you into itty bitty pieces fer that, you effin' bastard! You –"

"No, no, it wasn't me! I can't do magic! But, uh, two other girls I know have been acting completely _**insane**_ since this morning, and even my English teacher Ms. Miller was giving me these funny looks in class, so, so, the only thing I could think of to explain it was that – uh, someone's probably been messing around with the mojo?" he babbled nervously.

"Pish-tosh nonsense," Drusilla said dreamily, dismissing his words completely. "Your face is a poem, my love!" She moaned, "Oh, I can read it..."

"Uh, help?" Jesse said pleadingly to Spike, not considering the extreme irony of his actions.

"What do I look like ta you, mate? Florence bleedin' Nightingale?!" the male vampire snapped angrily.

"Look at me," Drusilla suddenly turned him around and stared deep into his eyes. "Be in me... show me your true self... tell me what your heart wants..."

Suddenly, without any warning, Drusilla turned into Aura. Jesse blinked, "What the-?"

"You want to tell me everything, my love," Aura said in a mesmerizing voice, as Jesse found himself almost drowning in the beautiful cheerleader's eyes. "There aren't any secrets between us, are there?"

"Yeah, sure there are... especially the big one concerning all the vampires," Jesse replied dazedly, still gazing deeply into his sort-of girlfriend's eyes.

"Tell me," Aura commanded in that hypnotic, enthralling voice.

"The prophecy. The one that said all the vamps in this world might be gotten rid of, somehow, before the month is over," Jesse babbled –

"WHAT?!" Spike's loud, infuriated roar suddenly made him snap out of it, and Jesse was subsequently shocked to see a broken-hearted Drusilla staring at him sorrowfully (despite the evil-looking demon face). "Right, that's it! Dru, we're takin' this wanker back to the lair, 'n torturing him 'til he spills his guts 'bout everything! Fer sure he's gotta know more th'n _**that**_ –"

 _ **CRUNCH!**_

Spike's tirade was suddenly cut off as a familiar-looking 1969 Shelby crashed into the soulless undead, with a loud squeal of tires. Unconsciously wincing as the impact dented the front bumper and grill of the car – damn, that was gonna cost to get fixed! – Jesse watched as the platinum-haired vampire went flying away to land in another section of the Bronze's parking lot.

"Back _**off**_ , Crazy Girl!" Cordelia shouted, getting out of the car and thrusting a cross towards Drusilla's face. "And let him go, dammit!"

Drusilla growled, suddenly wrapping an arm around his neck. "Miss Edith says you're not s'posed to be here," the female vampire rasped. "And don't be naughty, or the young prince's blood will spray like the waters of the Fontana di Trevi –"

"I don't think so, Dru."

Jesse felt blessed relief when the pressure of Drusilla's arm abruptly vanished from around his throat, but he didn't have time to think about that before Cordelia grabbed him by the arm and more or less _**threw**_ him into Xander's car, and his best friend yelled out a hurried "Thanks!" to that Liam guy and the Shelby roared off into the night with the smell of burning rubber –

* * *

 **Apartment B of 523 Oak Park Street, Sunnydale**

 **May 3** **rd** **, 1997**

"So. To sum up – Miss Rosenberg cast a spell that went horribly wrong, and caused Miss Summers to get into a fight with one of her classmates at that teen nightclub. It also caused the female vampire named Drusilla to hypnotize Mr. McNally in the car park, which enabled her and William the Bloody to learn of the prophecy. Liam was unable to dust both that mad Seer and her undead consort before they escaped, and so by now the entire undead community will have become aware of the threat potential," Wesley said in a clipped, formal tone, staring around at everyone present – Miss Summers, Mr. Giles, Ms. Calendar (or whatever his former faculty colleague now called herself), Liam, Mr. Harris, Miss Chase, Miss Rosenberg and Mr. McNally. "Have I missed anything?"

"My dad's car got damaged when I crashed it into Spike last night," Mr. Harris shrugged. "And the old man was kinda mad about that, until I told him that Cordelia was the one driving."

"Uh, why would that make any difference?" Liam asked curiously.

"My parents love my girlfriend even more than they love me; so they'll forgive her just about anything," Mr. Harris shrugged, while Miss Chase nodded and smiled that toothpaste commercial smile of hers. "And what the heck, I helped my father restore that Shelby in the first place. Shouldn't take me too long to get it fixed up again, good as new; especially with Cordy's dad picking up the tab."

"Be that as it may, we've wandered off the point," Wesley cut in angrily. "Mr. Giles?"

"Ah, yes. I've conferred with Quentin Travers and the head of the Council, Sir Nigel Ambrose-Bellairs; and their orders are quite clear. You, Miss Rosenberg, are to be sent to the Devon coven after your sophomore year of high school is over, for formal training and instruction in the magic arts; and you, Mr. McNally, are to leave Sunnydale with Liam, effective immediately."

"What?!" all of the teenagers (apart from Miss Summers, oddly enough) exclaimed loudly.

"Well, think it through," Ms. Calendar explained patiently. "Jesse can't stay here on the Hellmouth any longer, not under the current circumstances – Spike and Drusilla will go after him at once, they'd try to capture him and torture him for whatever information he has. It's just lucky that Xander and Cordelia managed to show up before he mentioned anything about the Slayer and the Oracle's involvement –"

"And we _**still**_ don't know who that particular individual is," Giles interrupted, taking off his glasses and pinching his nose.

Mr. Harris raised his arm. "Actually, that would be me."

Wesley ignored the exclamations of surprise from Mr. Giles and Ms. Calendar, although he _**was**_ somewhat amazed that the lad had decided to volunteer that information at this point. Then again, maybe it wasn't all that astonishing; they were getting close to the end, after all, and it was probably a calculated risk on his part –

"You are the Oracle referred to by the Loa's prophecy?" Mr. Giles stared at the Harris boy with undisguised interest.

"Yeah, I guess so," the young man confirmed, as a worried-looking Miss Chase grabbed hold of his hand.

"Amazing! Xander, just out of interest – I don't suppose you could give us a demonstration of your ability, could you?" Ms. Calendar asked, with a curious look on her face.

"Doesn't work like that, Ms. C. I can't exactly perform on demand; it just sorta happens, whenever I'm looking somebody directly in the eye. Not that I can ever remember what I say, afterwards," the youth shrugged.

"Utterly fascinating," Mr. Giles said, looking as if he had a hundred questions or more he'd like to ask. "So, how did you become –"

"None of your business, British Guy!" Miss Chase snapped, glaring at his Council colleague. "And stop staring at my boyfriend like he's your pet lab rat, or something! I swear, if anything happens to Xander because you tell the wrong people about what you just learned? I'll kill you dead, mister!" she growled angrily. "And if you think that's an empty threat, think again! 'Cause Daddy's still got all his weapons from when he was a Marine, and I'm not afraid to use them – not where my future husband's safety is concerned!"

"Now see here-!" Mr. Giles said indignantly, until Ms. Calendar put a hand on his and silently shut him up.

"I think that whole 'need to know' thing can be put aside for now – on account of we're all more or less on the same side here, aren't we?" the gypsy woman asked judiciously, before returning her attention to Mr. Harris. "Xander, is there anything you can tell us about your ability that might prove useful?"

"Well, uh... as far as I know, I can only do the Oracle thing once for each person, Ms. Calendar," the young man shrugged. He opened his mouth again –

" _You should consider yourself lucky that Angelus no longer exists, as he would have killed you in roughly nine months after being freed from that curse. So, die of old age surrounded by fat grandchildren, after marrying the man you've fallen in love with."_

{ _Good Lord!_ } Wesley thought to himself in shock, after hearing the Oracle's latest pronouncement. { _The woman was supposed to_ _ **die**_ _next year? And at the hands of the Scourge of Europe himself? What on earth –_ }

"Excuse me," the white-faced former spy choked out, before turning around and running out of the library. Not surprisingly, Mr. Giles sent Liam a hard look before running after her.

"No, I, I, I didn't, I mean – I, I wouldn't have! I, I'm not-!" Liam spluttered, looking pale and trapped and trying to defend himself.

"What's he talkin' about? Oh, wait – did I go all green-eyed again just now?" Mr. Harris instinctively looked around at his girlfriend for explanations.

Wesley didn't pay much attention as Miss Chase nodded and dragged her paramour away for a private conversation, and Miss Summers did the same for the former vampire. He was too busy focusing on Mr. McNally and Miss Rosenberg, as they came over to talk to him. "Yes?"

"Wes, do I _**really**_ have to high-tail it out of Dodge like this? I mean, we've got finals coming up in a few weeks!" the powerless member of the group exclaimed.

"And do I really have to go to England for the summer? 'Cause I was kinda hoping to –" the redhead started to say.

"Shut up, both of you," Wesley interrupted harshly. "You will do as you're told, without giving me any lip about it! Good heavens, but do you two have any idea what sort of _**horrendous**_ damage you've caused? Do you?! You're fortunate that said damage was completely unintentional, or else you'd have ended up in one of the Council's dungeons by now! You, Miss Rosenberg, you'll hand over your spell book to me immediately, and promise not to do any more unsupervised magic. And as for you, Mr. McNally, go home and pack your things. You will leave Sunnydale with Liam before sunset, and not return until June at the earliest. Is that clear?!"

"But, but what about Jesse's parents? And school? And –" the ginger started to protest.

"The appropriate cover story has already been given to Mr. & Mrs. McNally, and a private tutor engaged for home schooling. The young man will want for nothing during his – temporary exile," Wesley glowered at her.

"Can I at least visit Aura at her place before I go?" the male teen asked in a subdued tone. "I'd like to say goodbye to her – if that's okay with you?"

Wesley nodded once. He'd already had a long talk about what had happened with Miss Summers last night, and he'd felt _**relieved**_ upon hearing that his Slayer had no intention of pursuing Mr. McNally as the object of her romantic affections any longer. It was odd how Miss Rosenberg's spell had affected the Chosen One that way – and that demented vampiress as well, come to think of it – but as long as there was no lasting effects, and as long as the lad had realized Miss White was the one for him, then he would not pursue the matter any further.

Wesley knew he already had enough to worry about; like whether the undead would soon go on a rampage to prevent their upcoming (possible) extinction.

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** DonR, thanks for your previous review, and yep, no more Tor and Heidi. The fanfic is now heading towards the big confrontation/finale (vamps versus humans) at the end of the season, and those two have officially vanished and entered happily-ever-after territory. :)

Anyway, thanks to gleefulmusings for the inspiration regarding who's who in the Scooby Gang, and thanks as always to everyone who's reading and reviewing and sending feedback about the story. I hope you don't mind how I decided to change some/most of the events of "Out Of Mind, Out Of Sight" - but I honestly couldn't do a rehash of the invisible girl out to mutilate Cordelia, so I thought a love spell would do instead. Please tell me if it worked or not?


	34. Countdown

**Chapter Thirty-four: Countdown**

 **Indeterminate location**

 **May 3** **rd** **, 1997**

* * *

" _The final move has been made. All of the pieces are now in play,"_ said a reverberating, echoing voice; one that Xander Harris would have instantly recognized as belonging to the 'entity' which had spoken to him in Madam Devora's tent, so long ago.

The so-called Dark Lady. The Goddess of War, Prophecy and Death.

" _Indeed. Your counteracting of the undead Seer with that so-called Oracle was most unexpected,"_ a decidedly demonic voice growled in reply, the words thundering and echoing across the ever-changing landscape. An unplottable dimension that had been chosen for this meeting as neutral ground.

" _You realize that you and yours have already lost, do you not?"_ The words flickered from shadow to shadow, taunting the listener; a representative of all the forces of darkness in existence.

" _The battle is not over yet. I will admit that your chosen and his paramour have proven themselves an effective opposition to ours; in hindsight, we should have stuck with the original plan concerning those two vampires. Regardless, there is still a chance of success for our side."_

" _The chances of those two actually bringing about the Apocalypse are not even worth considering any longer. Do you wish to concede defeat now, and thus end your humiliation?"_ the Dark Lady asked emotionlessly.

" _No. The current conflict is incomplete; we would see it finished before conceding anything."_ The demonic voice rolled across the land, slamming into the incorporeal goddess – but to no effect.

" _So be it."_ A moment later, the Dark Lady was gone.

* * *

 **17619 Whiteoak Drive, Sunnydale**

 **A short while later**

"Hey, Mr. Harris," Cordelia smiled at her boyfriend's father, as he opened the door and she entered the house.

"Cordelia. Good to see you again, girl," the man smiled back at her. "You're here to see Xander, I take it?"

"Yeah. It's Saturday night, I thought we'd go out to see a movie or something," she nodded, before taking in the middle-aged guy's appearance – he was dressed in a suit and tie, and looking oddly debonair and distinguished. Then, as Xander's mom came into the room wearing an expensive-looking dress, Cordelia said, "Oh! Are you and Mrs. Harris going out as well?"

"Yes, dear. We're having dinner at Duvier's, to celebrate Tony's promotion at work," the red-haired woman nodded and smiled at her.

{ _Huh. Well, good for him. And hey – maybe this will finally put an end to Mother's worries about the gossip concerning the Chase family dabbling with the riff-raff!_ } "Congratulations on the promotion, Mr. Harris," she replied with a charming smile.

"Thank you, Cordelia. Now, if you'll excuse us, my wife and I need to get going – or we'll be late for our reservations at that restaurant," Mr. Harris nodded at her.

"Xander's up in his room – you know where it is, I'm sure. Just make sure he locks up properly if you two decide to go to the Sun Cinema or whatever, all right?" Mrs. Harris asked, putting on a shawl as she spoke.

"No problem, Mrs. Harris," Cordelia nodded, as the parents said their goodbyes to her and vanished out the front door. She then went upstairs and knocked on the door to her boyfriend's bedroom. "Xander?"

"Come on in, Cordy."

She twisted the doorhandle and went inside, only to find Xander lying on his bed staring up at the ceiling. He was wearing a white T-shirt and shorts, and his hair looked wet – like he'd just stepped out of the shower or something. "Xander?"

"Yeah, honey?" he replied, swinging his legs down onto the floor and sitting up.

"Is something wrong?" she asked in confusion. "I mean, yeah, I know McNally was forced to spill the beans to the undead versions of Sid and Nancy last night, and you're probably worried about being targeted by those two –"

"No, it's not that," Xander interrupted, avoiding her gaze. "Okay, yeah, I _**am**_ kinda worried about them, and about what might happen to you if and when those vamps come after me; but... truth is, there's something else on my mind right now."

Feeling concerned, Cordelia sat down on the bed and grabbed hold of his hand. "Like what?"

Xander turned to face her. "What you said in the library yesterday. Just before I did the Oracle thing for Ms. Calendar?" Her face must have reflected her complete lack of comprehension, because the Doofus just sighed and said, "You said, and I quote: 'Daddy's still got all his weapons from when he was a Marine, and I'm not afraid to use them – not where my future husband's safety is concerned.' Haven't been able to stop thinking about that, to be absolutely honest with you."

Feeling shocked, Cordelia started to reply, "Well, uh –"

"I mean, correct me if I'm wrong – but it sounds like you've become a true believer in what Madam Devora said would eventually happen," the Dumbass interjected, looking her directly in the eyes. "That we'll either get married and live happily ever after, or die young after going our separate ways?"

"HEY!" Cordelia shouted, feeling very annoyed. "I never said that! Mister, I never _**once**_ said that those were our only choices!"

"So, you just want to marry me in five years' time, or whenever it's gonna happen?"

"Will you stop putting words in my mouth? Geez!" she glared at him. "And so what if I've started thinking about our future together? I mean, I can't help wondering if maybe this thing between us really is gonna end up with you putting a wedding ring on my finger! Sure, we're only sixteen at the moment, but that doesn't mean I – mrrphh!" A pair of Xander-shaped lips descended on hers, and shut her up in the nicest way imaginable.

A few minutes later, she had to come up for breath and said dazedly, "Uh... what were we talking about?"

"You tell me – Mrs. Harris," the lamer smirked at her. "Or do you prefer Chase-Harris? I don't actually mind, either way."

"Wha... you don't?!" Cordelia stared at him weirdly. "Then why were you sorta acting like you wanted to run for the hills, leaving a Xander-shaped hole in the door? Giving me the impression that you were a major flight risk that way, not cool!" she glared at him again.

He chuckled before saying, "Cordy, c'mon – would I do something like that to you? You'd hunt me down and _ **kill**_ me, if I ever did anything that stupid! What was it you said to me, back on my birthday? Skinned alive, dismembered, boiled in oil, stuff like that?"

"Whatever," she replied, feeling somewhat embarrassed. { _The asshole_ _ **would**_ _have to remember that! Still, that night was pretty memorable, I have to admit. And for more reasons that one!_ } Cordelia suddenly felt a familiar tingle surge through her body, as her nipples hardened. { _Down, girl! So not the time!_ }

"Still, I guess I can sorta see where you're coming from," the Dorkhead said musingly. "Seriously, did you know the average high school romance lasts a grand total of roughly six weeks? Willow's mom showed me, her and Jesse the stats – and yet, despite the odds, we've been together a lot longer than that. Somehow, we've managed to outlast your normal, everyday expectations –"

"Yeah, because there's never been anything normal about us," she interrupted him, before they kissed again – feverishly, passionately and wantonly. "Not even remotely, Harris."

"I know. 'Cause weird as it sounds? I'm in love with you. Powerfully, painfully in love. Cordy, the things you do... the way you think... even the way you act... honey, you actually make me feel like a man. Something I've never felt before," Xander confessed, holding both her hands in his. "Just thought you'd like to know."

She never even stopped to think about it – immediately, Cordelia pushed him down onto the bed before climbing on top of him and kissing him all over again. When they broke the kiss, both of them were panting, and his hands had slipped under her top. "Cordy –"

"We've already gone past third base before," she semi-growled. "So, either you take my top off, or I will!"

Nodding, he gently pulled the piece of clothing over her head, and then he kissed and caressed her again after she took off her bra. A bit later, her skirt and panties had vanished, as had his T-shirt and shorts, and both of them were flushed and somewhat sweaty. "Cordelia, I, I think we – need to stop. Otherwise..." Xander trailed off, seeing her gaze focused on his right shoulder. "What?"

"When did you get a tattoo?" she demanded, tracing the elaborate cross in question with a delicate fingertip. "'Cause it looks kinda sexy on you, Doof!"

"A while ago. And thanks," he grinned at her. "And hey; yours looks absolutely incredible on you!"

Cordelia grinned back at him. "Well, naturally!" A moment later, her expression changed and she added seriously, "As for stopping – why should we? I love you, and you love me, and that's all that matters! Right?"

She paused, taking a deep breath. "Your parents won't be back for hours, and mine aren't expecting me home anytime soon, either. So – we've got plenty of time."

"Time for what?"

"To finally go all the way."

His eyes immediately went wide. "But I thought – uh, what about waiting until summer vacation?" Xander asked, looking confused. "I, I thought you weren't ready for us to go that far yet?"

Cordelia never hesitated. The events of the other night, which included saving McNally's ass, had convinced her that there was no point wasting any time once you knew what you wanted. "That was then, and this is now."

"Are you sure-?"

"Never been more sure of anything in my entire life," she cut him off roughly. "I'm ready and willing – if you are?"

Xander met her eyes for a moment, obviously looking for something to reassure him that he wasn't pressuring her into going further than what she was ready for. It was kinda touching, actually – so she looked determined, silently willing her boyfriend to believe her. Wanting him to want this just as much as she did. Hoping that their first time together would be the special, magical experience she longed for it to be –

"Yeah. I am. Willing, that is. More than, even. Uh..." He suddenly reached for something in the drawer next to the bed. "I think we'll need this, though?"

Once she saw the condom in his hand, Cordelia grabbed the packet, tore off the wrapping and eagerly inserted the rubber onto her boyfriend's penis. Xander groaned and said, "Careful, honey! Don't want it to tear, y'know?"

"I know. And – sure, it's _**such**_ a cliché, but still – be gentle with me," Cordelia said, mentally preparing herself for finally losing her virginity.

He nodded, and pulled her down on him. Then Xander whispered in her ear, "Um, I'm pretty sure you already know; but just for the record, I've never actually done this before –"

"Neither have I. But we'll learn – together," Cordelia whispered back, before kissing her boyfriend hungrily.

* * *

 **6 Osgood Street, Sunnydale**

 **The next day**

Aura was feeling pretty depressed. No, actually, she was feeling all kinds of miserable right now!

Less than forty-eight hours ago, she had made a complete fool of herself in public. She'd actually started fighting with Buffy Summers in full view of everyone at the Bronze, right in the middle of Harmony's coronation as May Queen? And all because she'd thought that blonde was attempting to poach her boyfr- uh, Jesse McNally?

{ _I_ _ **knew**_ _I'd regret getting involved with that guy, eventually,_ } Aura thought to herself despondently, before her expression turned into a frown. { _And I still can't believe Jesse just up and left town that way! He came and said goodbye, then he kissed me before practically running out of the mansion? I mean, what's up with that? And what was with that older guy driving that '68 Plymouth GTX convertible, waiting for him outside the house?_ }

Aura continued to frown, trying to recall where she'd seen that particular hunk before. Because she was sure she'd seen him somewhere. { _At the Bronze... I think? Oh, yeah, I saw him talking to Xander Harris, and more than once! So he's gotta be a friend, or maybe even a relative, of Cordelia's boyfriend. Well, I guess that kinda makes sense – sorta. But no way I'm buying that lameass excuse McNally tried to sell me, about why he had to leave Sunnydale –_ }

The front doorbell suddenly chimed melodiously, and Aura was instantly distracted from her thoughts. { _Huh. I wonder who that could be?_ }

She soon found out – the maid showed up and said that Cordelia Chase, Xander Harris and Willow Rosenberg were at the front door, and wanting to speak to her. "What should I tell them, Miss White?" Theresa asked deferentially, as the hired help awaited her orders.

"Tell them I'll see them in the library," she suddenly decided on instinct. "Just – gimme thirty seconds or so to prepare, okay?"

"Yes, Miss White," Theresa nodded, and made her way back to the front door.

"Aura? What's going on?" her mother asked, coming down the stairs and frowning at her.

"Uh, we've got some unexpected visitors, mom," Aura inclined her head towards the front door. "Friends of mine from school. Well, sort of."

"Really? I must admit, I'm rather surprised. After that embarrassing display of yours recently, I mean," Laurel White stared at her disapprovingly. "For heaven's sake, dear, what _**were**_ you thinking the other night? Maybe your father was right, and I have been spoiling you too much lately. I know Frank's been worried about you –"

"There's nothing to worry about, mom," Aura interrupted hurriedly. "And I didn't know you and Dad were on speaking terms again – y'know, what with how ugly the divorce was. So what's up with that?"

"We're still your parents, and even though Frank and I aren't together anymore, that doesn't mean I want him out of your life completely," her mother said stiffly. "But we can talk about that later – right now, you have guests waiting?"

"Ack! You're right," Aura groaned, before she headed off to the mansion's library. { _Huh. Well, I wonder what this'll be about?_ }

It didn't take long for her classmates to arrive, and Aura noticed straightaway that Willow was definitely keeping her distance from the other two. There was nothing to suggest why, though. Okay, Cordelia and Xander were holding hands, but that sort of PDA was hardly surprising after the last few months. Was it?

Although, upon closer inspection – heh, those two somehow reminded Aura of her parents, back before it all went sour –

"So. You and McNally, huh?" Cordelia said archly, giving her an inquisitive look. "You decided to imitate me, finding a geek of your own to make out with? Can't say I'm all that surprised. Naturally, after _**I**_ start the trend, the cool kids start following in my footsteps!"

"Cordelia," Willow groaned, giving the brunette a hopeless look.

"Aura. You my best friend's girl now?" Harris spoke up, giving her the same inquisitive look Cordelia had. Which was kinda odd, come to think of it – these days, he never looked anyone directly in the eyes. Not that Aura had ever seen this year, anyway –

"I don't see how that's _**any**_ of your business!" she then snapped at him, once she managed to focus on the question.

"Okay, I'll take that as a 'yes'." Harris sighed and exchanged a look with his girlfriend, who just nodded silently.

{ _Well, of all the nerve!_ } "What is this, some sort of Inquisition? If so, you can forget it! You three may as well leave –" Aura began to rant.

"Aura, Jesse told us everything before he had to get out of town. And I'm here to apologize to you," Willow interrupted her, before she could really get started on the diatribe.

"Huh? You want to apologize to me? What for?"

"It's, uh, it's kinda my fault you, um, sorta went nuts on Friday, and everyone found out about you and Jesse – y'know, after that thing with you and Buffy at the Bronze," the redhead confessed, looking ashamed.

"Yeah. And hey, _**I**_ thought that the Buffster ought to come along to this little summit meeting, so she could clear things up in person; but I pretty much got outvoted on that," Xander spoke up, briefly rubbing the back of his neck.

"Oh, sure – you wanted to bring the same girl Aura had a fight with straight into the lion's den, for round two. Only this time, without the mojo affecting them. I honestly can't tell if you're an idiot, Dweeb, or just a complete guy!" Cordelia glared at her boyfriend.

"What are you people talking about?" Aura demanded in confusion.

"Willow cast a love spell on you, kinda-sorta by accident. Not to mention Buffy, and that lunatic Drusilla – not that she really counts," Cordelia said bluntly, her nose scrunching up in distaste.

Aura blinked. Repeatedly. "Huh?"

"I'm a witch. Well, novice anyway," Willow replied, now looking guilty as hell. "I'm really sorry, Aura – I, I didn't mean for any of that to happen! Y'know, I was just trying to help Jesse find his soul mate; and if I'd known you two were together, then I never would have –"

"Stop! Rewind. Did, did you just say 'witch'? Like in Samantha Stevens from _Bewitched_? What sort of stupid joke is this?" Aura demanded heatedly. "And love spell? There's no such thing! What do you take me for, a complete moron?"

"Told you she wouldn't believe it," Cordelia said, blowing some hairs out of her eyes in annoyance.

"Thinkin' that's your cue, Will," Xander nodded.

"Uh – I did sorta promise Wesley I wouldn't..." the redhead trailed off uncertainly.

"You promised you wouldn't do it _**unsupervised**_ ," Cordelia said bluntly. "So what are Xander and I, chopped liver?"

[ Can you hear me, Aura? ] she suddenly heard Willow's voice inside her head, even though the girl's lips weren't moving. [ Can you hear me talking inside your mind? ]

"What, what was that?!" Aura semi-shrieked, taking a step back. "Willow, are you a ventriloquist of some kind? Like that guy who died, what was his name..."

"Morgan," Xander spoke up. "And no, she's not. If you wanna have Willow drink some water and pinch her nose shut while she does the telepathy thing, she can do that – that's what it took to convince Jesse all this wasn't a trick of some sort, after all."

"Yeah. Listen up, Aura – magic is real. And that's what caused you and Buffy to have that cat fight in the Bronze a few nights back," Cordelia said. "You can deny it all you want – God knows I did, and for _**months**_ after I first found out – but trust me, that's not gonna change a damn thing. You were the victim of a spell that went wrong, and given how you were secretly keeping an eye out for my welfare despite our friendship ending, well – I thought you deserved to know the truth regarding Willow's little screw-up."

"This is insane –"

"Show her, Will," Harris interrupted. "Lift me up off the floor. Like six inches or so."

"Are you sure about this?" Cordelia asked him, looking uncertain.

"If that's what it takes to bring Jesse's new squeeze into the fold, then yeah," he nodded. "We've already gone this far, what's another little demonstration now?"

Stunned, Aura could only watch in disbelief as Harris slowly levitated upwards. She went over to him and swept her right foot underneath his shoes, but there was nothing there – just empty air between him and the floor. Plus, no wires, or anything else she could see which would explain –

"This is impossible," Aura choked out, her mind reeling as Harris slowly floated back down. Then she took a few steps back from Willow, "What, what kind of _**freak**_ are you, Rosenberg?!"

"Hey! Knock it off, Aura," Harris said angrily. "'Cause I don't like that word, understand? Seriously, _**don't**_ call her that again!"

"He's got a point. Besides – there are lots more freaky things in this town than Willow," Cordelia said with a visible shrug.

"Like what?!"

"Vampires. Demons. All the things which go bump in the night, apparently," her former role model replied. "That's part of the reason why Stalker Boy had to get outta town, actually."

"But, but – Jesse never mentioned anything about this, he, he didn't..." Aura trailed off, still trying to deal with the enormity of everything she had just learned. { _I mean, witches? Magic? Vampires? Demons?_ }

"Yeah, well, that's not surprising. Not everyone's cut out to deal with this sort of stuff," Willow shrugged. "Jesse probably didn't want to scare you off, after you two ended up making out and – whatever else you've gotten up to together."

"Hey!" Aura snapped. "What are you implying? Because I'm _**not**_ that kind of girl! And if you try to tell anyone that I am –"

"Oh, don't bother trying to threaten her. Wouldn't do you any good, anyway. I mean, remember what happened to Harmony and Gwen?" Cordelia interrupted, sending her a meaningful look. "Aura, there was a reason why I told you and everyone else to leave Willow alone back then!"

"You – you've known about all this for, for _**that**_ long?!" Aura gasped, her mind still reeling.

"Well, duh! Anyway, we need to make sure you're clear on what's gonna happen next," Cordelia told her frankly, tossing her hair to one side.

"Which means what?" she asked blankly.

"Uh, well, Xander came up with the idea of a, um, a cover story. That I, ah, I hypnotized you and Buffy – on Cordelia's orders – to briefly make you think that you were in love with Jesse," Willow confessed, looking very embarrassed.

"WHAT?!"

"Yup. Plan is I get Jonathan and Marcie to start circulating the rumor, and as long as no one's able to come up with any other explanation, I'm betting everyone will start believing it – even Harmony, and her gang of airheads," Xander shrugged. "After all, Willow's parents are shrinks – everyone knows that – so it's not exactly inconceivable that she could have learned how to hypnotize someone from them. It gives you a plausible excuse for your actions, not to mention Buffy's as well. Plus, it'll make your popular friends majorly scared of what Willow's really capable of, and totally not want to mess with her any longer. And who knows? It might even make them wonder whether turning my girlfriend into a total _**outcast**_ was such a great idea," he semi-growled.

"Oh, ignore him. Xander's still got issues about what I willingly gave up in order for us to be together," Cordelia smirked at her, before switching her focus to Harris. "And I keep telling you, Dummy – what does all that really matter? I mean, by the time we celebrate our fiftieth wedding anniversary? I bet neither of us will even remember the names of my so-called former friends! Or how they rejected me, or whatever."

{ _Holy shit. Cordelia really is serious about this guy,_ } Aura thought dazedly. { _I mean, sure – I_ _ **knew**_ _that, I knew she wouldn't have thrown away her popularity for just anyone – but she's already thinking about marrying Harris one day? And Xander didn't even blink at the concept of being together with her, for like fifty years? That's just –_ }

"You two are already planning on marriage and, like, kids and stuff? Uh – that's kinda weird, isn't it?" she suddenly blurted out.

The three visitors turned to look at her in surprise. Harris opened his mouth –

– and all of a sudden, his eyes weren't brown anymore. They were a weird shade of _**green**_ , and they were sparkling and shimmering in the morning sunlight coming in through the window –

" _All weirdness is relative, and your involvement with your not-so-secret paramour is proof of this. Regardless, know that you will not be able to fulfill your true potential if you become part of the final battle against the undead."_

Aura just stared blankly at Cordelia's boyfriend, absently noting how his eyes changed back to their normal chocolate-brown color, before she replied, "What do you mean, I won't be able to fulfill my full potential if I become part of – what?!"

"He means, you shouldn't become involved in all the craziness that's scheduled to occur sometime this month. Despite the fact that you and McNally are an item now," Cordelia shrugged, even as Willow stared at her in amazement. "Oh, and don't tell anyone that my future husband is an Oracle, okay? Aura, I'd hate to have to shoot you if that happened, and then someone tried to kidnap him or kill him later on!"

* * *

 **1630 Revello Drive, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

{ _Well, I guess there's no point living in denial,_ } Buffy thought to herself glumly, having listened to her mother talking on the phone to some guy she'd met at the art gallery – and overhearing them making a date for next Friday night. { _The plan to get my parents back together is now officially a bust, especially since I know Dad is getting horizontal with his secretary. No matter how hard he tried to hide it from me! Guess I'll just have to settle for getting rid of all the vampires in the world and then retiring from the Slayer gig, once and for all._ }

Buffy frowned. { _Dammit, I wish I had details on how all that is gonna happen! And especially what role Xander's gonna play..._ }

* * *

 **Spike's warehouse lair, Sunnydale**

 **Later that night**

"Bad dolly!" Drusilla said, slapping her little porcelain doll solidly and scowling at it. "You lied to me. Miss Edith is a very bad girl! You said the White Knight would become mine forever with a kiss, the way he should have been for Grandmother, but the Kitten and the naughty girl got in the way! You never said anything 'bout that!"

Scowling ferociously, in full game face, Dru set Miss Edith on a shelf facing the wall, and said, "No more tea and crumpets for you, Miss Edith!"

She closed her eyes and stood swaying for a long time, humming to some discordant melody that only she could hear. Abruptly, her features morphed from her vampire visage into her human mask, and her eyes opened. "Spoike!" She quickly left their makeshift bedroom, seeking her creation. "Spoike, where are you?"

"I'm over 'ere, luv," he grunted, hobbling over towards her. Slowly, favoring his right leg, but still making his way towards her; pushing the silly minions out of his way –

{ _Oh, my poor Spoike. The Kitten, he really was awfully mischievous the other night!_ } Drusilla giggled madly in the privacy of her mind. { _Never mind. My wonderful Willy will get all better soon, well – as long as he eats up all his curds and whey, like a good li'l boy!_ }

"Sir? Ma'am?" Dalton spoke up nervously, coming over to join them. "Have you got a moment?"

"We may not have many moments _**left**_ , you bloody dunderhead!" her darling roared furiously, like exquisite music. "Now, tell me you've found something regarding that prophecy me and Dru heard about the other night! You know the one – where we vampires are supposed to end up _**extinct?!**_ "

"Uh, yes sir. And, I – I think so," Dalton stammered cutely.

"You _**think**_ so?! That's not effin' good enough!" Spoike limped forward, looking ready to slash – and bash – and make Dalton suffer ever so –

"No! Uh, I mean, there's been nothing I could find in any of the normal sources. Which, which isn't surprising – otherwise, we-we would have been alerted to the threat a long time ago. But – then I came across this," he handed over an old book roughly the size of a notebook.

"What the shitty blazes is this?" Spike demanded, flipping through the pages impatiently. "It's not even written in English!"

"This is the Pergamum Codex, sir. The, uh, the Master had it hidden, but I managed to find it for you. It's, it's said to contain the most complete prophecies about the Slayer during the end times," Dalton babbled.

{ _Silly boys. Don't they remember that the Dark Lady struck at the heart of that wonderful prophecy proclaiming the wicked Slayer's death?_ } Drusilla asked herself. { _Poor Great-grandfather, he never got to eat her up..._ }

"Ho korias phanaytie toutay... tay nuktee. So wot's that supposed ta mean?" Spoike glared at Dalton, after reading the text on the page the minion had indicated.

"Uh, as best as I can translate it – 'the Master shall rise' or 'the Master shall manifest', or something like that," Dalton offered meekly.

"Oh, yeah? And 'ow's he gonna do that, then? _**Especially**_ after Heinrich ended up nothing but bones and ashes that night!" Spoike angrily whacked Dalton over the head with the book. "What else ya got?"

"Well, the text is – there's reference to the Slayer, of course, but also to something called the 'nexus of chaos.' I haven't been able to figure out if that's a person or a, a thing, at least not yet, but – the book of prophecy also mentions –"

"The Seed," Dru interjected, swaying around and then pirouetting gracefully. "The Seed of Wonder, dear heart. The world's soul, and source of life. Magic. Oooh! Pretty."

Spoike seemed distracted, though. "Right, then, let's see if I got this straight. Odds are that Slayer bint's gonna find this nexus, and/or this seed thing-y, and somehow use 'em to get rid of us all. That about right?"

"Possibly, sir. I, I need to research it further," Dalton said uncertainly.

"Then whaddya standin' around 'ere for? Get on with it, ya pillock!" her dear William snarled, throwing the book at the bookworm. "Don't forget, it's yer own unlife what's at stake 'ere as well!"

Dalton scooted away, and her Spikey-poo came closer. "Odds are we'll hafta destroy them nexus and seed things, once we find 'em. But 'ave you got anything ta give me, luv? Anything at all? Like how it is _**Angelus**_ is still running around, even though you told me he was gone?!"

"Daddy _**is**_ gone, Spoike; 'im and the Angel-beast," she replied primly. Really, it wasn't nice how William was acting like such a Doubting Thomas!

"Yeah, but case ya didn't notice, pet? We _**saw**_ him on Friday night, before 'n after I got hit by that bloody car!" he growled back. "Fucking gelled-hair turncoat musta heard the prophecy somehow – prob'ly that green-eyed whelp shootin' his big mouth off, now that I think of it – and the old man turned himself into one of the blood bags, in order ta save his own arse! Bleedin' typical. So are ya _**sure**_ ya can't sense him? Or See him? I'd wager Gramps has all the answers, but we gotta find him and torture him fer the info first! Odds are, we'll never find that other git in time – the one who spilled the beans the other night. Them white hats woulda gotten him outta town by now..."

Spoike continued to prattle on about this 'n that, but Dru ceased to pay attention any longer. She could hear the whispering voices inside her, and all around her –

– the Watcher. Not the big ol' fuddy-duddy who'd finally shown up where he was s'posed to be, but the younger one. The one whose Daddy was so mean; and whose mummy was so nice, she wanted to pluck out the woman's eyes and eat them –

When the time was right, he'd have to be brought before them. Her Spike-y would have such fun with that one!

But then the voices changed.

{ _Oh,_ } Drusilla thought to herself in confusion, as Spike finally noticed she wasn't paying any attention to him. { _One-two-three, easy as ABC? Blood of the lamb? The lovelorn witch, she'll bring the Kitten to me? How nice..._ }

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Okay, so I need to make something clear; namely, things are gonna get ugly. Someone is gonna die soon in this story, and it's not gonna be pretty. At all. To quote Buffy from season 7's _End of Days_ episode, "People die. You lead them into battle, they're gonna die. It doesn't matter how ready you are or how smart you are. War is about death." And when the enemy are soulless undead facing the prospect of extermination, you can bet that they're not going to go quietly! Just wanted to warn you all. Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you tell what you thought of the latest chapter!


	35. Wrath

**Chapter Thirty-five: Wrath**

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **May 10** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Spike cursed under his breath, glaring at his surroundings. It utterly galled him having to relocate here, of all places; but it was no longer possible for them to stay on the surface, or even elsewhere underground – the blood bags had finally gotten a clue, somehow, and every vampire within the town limits was being targeted. The Slayer bint now had major backup, Council soldier-boys and the like, and –

{ _Hellmouth's not safe fer us, not anymore,_ } Spike brooded to himself, pacing around the underground cavern. At least his physical injuries had healed, now that enough time had passed. { _I dunno how the bleedin' hell it ever came to this, but it's true 'nuff. Sunnyhell's become a complete nightmare lately! And the worst part is that even if we wanted to, we can't run fer it. Not only 'cause of that damn prophecy, but that spell – or whatever it is that's preventing us from gettin' out. Like a bloody invitation barrier 'round the whole damn town! Even the local beach and marina. Whoever came up with that, I oughta 'ave their guts fer garters..._ }

"Sir?" Dalton asked hesitantly, coming up to him.

"Wot?"

"You, uh, you wanted to know when the Slayer's Watcher was identified? Well, we can't be one hundred percent sure, of course, but the Chosen One was spotted being escorted into and out of City Hall by an older man in his late twenties or early thirties, and, uh –"

"Find him. Grab him. I don't care how – just bring him 'ere right quick, or don't bother comin' back at all," Spike growled at his bookish lackey. "Ya hear me? HURRY UP, you daft wanker! MOVE! NOW!"

Dalton skittered away, and Spike growled softly to himself. { _Bloody idiot. He better not stuff this up, or I'll rip 'im apart limb from limb!_ }

* * *

 **Route 23, near Ojai**

 **Earlier that day**

"I don't get it," Cordelia admitted, adjusting her stylish sunglasses as she glanced over towards Xander, while the Ventura County desert sped past them at high speed. "Why'd your grandmother want to see me as well as you, this weekend?"

Xander looked too terrified to respond, which was just plain annoying. Wasn't her boyfriend supposed to be more trusting of her, now that they'd finally had sex?

That had been some night, actually. The following morning she'd felt happy, maybe even ecstatic that she was finally a woman in every sense of the word; and that the whole virgin sacrifice thing no longer applied to her. Plus, while it hadn't exactly been the mind-blowing, magical moment the romance novels and magazines like _Cosmo_ and _Marie Claire_ had painted it as – hey, her boyfriend's parents had arrived home way earlier than expected, and almost caught them at it! – she had nonetheless felt... satisfied over the pleasure she'd given, and received.

Of course, given their inexperience, that old saying about how 'practice makes perfect' definitely applied in this situation; and so, Cordelia looked forward to the next time they would make love to one another. Preferably in her bed, though; it was a lot more comfortable than Xander's!

But that was for the future. Right now, the guy was still looking as if –

With an annoyed exhalation of air escaping her lips, she slowed the BMW down to ridiculously slow levels, and repeated her question. "Dweeb! Why would your grandmother want to talk to me?"

"I don't know," Xander replied, visibly relaxing and his hands slowly unclenching. "Could be she just wants to meet my girlfriend – I did talk about you a lot, last time my parents and I were there – or it could be something else. You can never quite tell where Grandma Lambert is concerned."

"Huh," she mused, unconsciously tapping the steering wheel with her perfectly manicured fingers. "Well... either way, I suppose it wouldn't suck getting to know her. Not only 'cause we'll eventually be related one day, but given everything you've told me about your mom's mom, she sounds like a pretty decent person."

"She is," Xander grinned. "She's my favorite grandma, Cordy. Not saying I don't love my other grandparents – I do – but there's just... something about her, I guess. Grandma Lambert's part Lakota Sioux, y'know, and I –"

"She is?" Cordelia interrupted, looking intrigued. "You never told me that!"

"Didn't I? Well, she is," he nodded. "I think there's some Kiowa blood from her mom's side there as well. I mean, she used to tell me these stories when I was younger..."

"Stories? Like what?"

Xander shrugged. "Eh, y'know, fairy tales for kids. How Coyote and Cougar had two sons that became the Sun and the Moon, and how Coyote and Lizard made sure people were given fingers and language after they were created, stuff like that."

Cordelia frowned as she increased speed, despite how that made her significant other incredibly nervous again, suddenly impatient to visit Xander's maternal grandmother. She wasn't sure why; all she knew was that she was suddenly very interested in meeting the woman in question. { _Guess it's gonna be an interesting meeting, if nothing else._ }

In almost no time at all, then, they arrived at the Lambert residence, which was not far from the Ojai city limits. Xander's grandmother let them in (without a verbal invite, she couldn't help noticing) and told them to sit down, before making them a cup of coffee.

"How was the trip from Sunnydale?" Mrs. Lambert called out to them from the kitchen.

"Terrifying," Xander muttered, causing her to whack him on the arm with annoyance. "Uh, pretty good, Grandma!" the Dumbass then called out in a louder tone of voice.

"You two did make excellent time," the old lady nodded, as she arrived in the living room and served them both. Cordy straightened up from her position on the overstuffed sofa, and graciously thanked her host for the coffee. It was pretty good quality caffeine, too –

"So, you're the girl my grandson has lost his heart to," the Lambert matriarch said, looking her over carefully. "Lost his virginity to as well, if I'm not mistaken."

Xander's spit-take would have been amusing, under other circumstances. "Grandma!" he yelled, his cheeks flaming red.

"No, you're not mistaken, Mrs. Lambert," Cordelia ignored her boyfriend completely. "Xander and I recently consummated our relationship that way. I hope that's not a problem for you?"

"CORDY!" the Dork then yelled at her.

"No, dear, not really. To someone my age – well, the events and attitudes of the Sixties and Seventies weren't all that long ago," Xander's grandmother shrugged slightly, ignoring him as well. "Besides – I've already figured out that you love him, and Xander loves you. But I would like to get to know you better. So, what can you tell me about your family?"

Continuing to ignore Xander's open-mouthed look of disbelief, she replied, "The Chase's are old money, and so are the Morris's; not to mention I'm the product of a big mix of nationalities. Irish, Italian, and Spanish on my mother's side – and English, French, and German on Daddy's side. Oh, and supposedly – at least, according to Granddaddy Chase – a touch of the old tar brush as well, somewhere further back."

"CORDY!"

Again, both of them ignored the outburst. His grandmother asked him, "Xander, do you know your own heritage?"

"Yeah, sure," he eventually replied, still looking kinda freaked. "Dad: Scottish, obviously – from the 'Harris.' And French and Cajun as well, which explains my middle name of LaVelle. As for mom's side, well, uh, you know –"

"Yes, Xander. Your maternal grandfather was a Son of the Revolution, and a tenth generation American. It was actually quite the scandal when he chose me – an Amerindian woman, whose mother was a full-blooded Sioux," Xander's grandmother smiled, yet with a touch of old pain visible in her eyes. Cordelia took careful note as Mrs. Lambert added, "His parents disowned him after learning that we had married against their wishes, but Alexander didn't care. My husband and I had each other, and that was all that mattered to us. I take it you two feel the same way?"

"Yeah," the Doofus immediately nodded, holding her hand and making her smile. "But Grandma, why ask? About my heritage, I mean?"

"I'll get to that, soon," the old woman said evasively. "But first of all – you two _**do**_ know the truth about Sunnydale, don't you? The things that live there, and come out of their lairs once the sun goes down?"

"You know about _**that?!**_ " Cordelia demanded, her grip on Xander's hand intensifying. "How did you find out-?"

"In the old days, Cordelia, when I was a child – the monsters didn't need to be as careful as they do now," the grandmother sighed. "I found out about vampires and demons the hard way, when I was almost eaten by a grue – that's what my mother's people called them," Mrs. Lambert quickly added, after seeing a confused look on her face. "And as I grew up, I learned all I could about them. To be able to stay as far away from them as possible."

"But – you never told my mom about the things that go bump in the night? Or my dad?" Xander was looking at his grandmother like he'd never actually met her before. "Geez, why not?! If you knew the danger they were in, just _**living**_ in Sunnydale –"

"If I had said anything, Xander, they wouldn't have believed me. Not without proof," the old woman rebuked him gently. "Your parents would have come to the conclusion that I'd lost my senses completely. Or worse, they would have humored a middle-aged woman's so-called delusions, and left Sunnydale long before you were born. And in that scenario, you would have never known your girlfriend here," Mrs. Lambert nodded in her direction. "What do you think this lovely young woman's life would be like right now, in that case?"

Cordelia immediately felt a cold chill run down her spine, gripping her boyfriend's hand tighter. "I already know what my life would be like right now if I'd never met your grandson, Mrs. Lambert. I wouldn't have one – I'd be dead!"

"OW! Honey, please, let go..." Xander whimpered, a look of agony appearing on his face. She hurriedly let go of his hand, feeling embarrassed. Then Xander added, "Thanks. And Grandma, point taken. But I still don't get it – what's all this got to do with my, uh, heritage?"

The grey-haired old woman sighed again. "Xander, did you know that you were the first male child born to my line for at least six generations? Your mother and I were fully expecting a girl, when she learned she was pregnant with you. It was quite the surprise when the ob-gyn told Jessica and your father that she was carrying a boy. For all of us, especially me."

"Why you, Mrs. Lambert?" Cordelia asked, ignoring the confused look on her boyfriend's face.

Xander's grandmother had a pensive expression on her face. "There's an ancient story that's been passed down from mother to daughter in our family, Cordelia. That the old gods of my mother's people – Coyote, Deer, Magpie, and all the rest – they were real, and they used to visit the mortal realm, and trick the most worthy maidens and warriors into laying down with them. Becoming one flesh with them. According to the legend, our family is descended from the daughter of Saynday, the son of Kunula –"

"Coyote?!" Xander interrupted, his face now white with shock.

"Yes. And Saynday... my great-grandfather, and Xander, your great-great-great-grandfather – that trickster prophesized that his line would produce nothing but females – until the time came for a male child which he called 'the Speaker' to be born. You," Mrs. Lambert explained, leaning forward and staring at her boyfriend. "The defender of mankind, yet also the one born to create... chaos. That's why your mother's pregnancy was so problematic, and why I had to move in with your parents back then – to make sure you didn't die thanks to a miscarriage, while you were still gestating within Jessica's womb."

"You mean, you knew about the whole Oracle thing – ever since before Xander was born?!" Cordelia exclaimed, unable to keep the disbelief out of her voice.

"Oracle thing?" the old woman asked curiously.

Cordelia could tell that she was the one who would have tell Xander's grandmother everything – her boyfriend was obviously trying to deal with learning that he was descended from an actual god, and failing badly – and thus, she did so. Everything she knew, starting with what had happened back on Midsummer's Day last year and ending with what had happened at Aura's house last week. "So, anyway, it's been fairly quiet lately, but to be absolutely honest? In Sunnydale, that just means the weirdness is gathering strength for an extra-powerful punch; I'm willing to bet things are gonna get real crazy again, real soon –"

"I believe you," Mrs. Lambert interrupted, looking shocked at what she'd just heard. "And gods above and below, I had no idea things had gotten that bad! Sunnydale has become a death trap, from everything you've told me – you should both convince your parents to leave, as soon as possible!"

"Maybe that's an option for Cordy's parents, but not mine – Dad's just gotten that promotion at work, and my mom has got her own commitments," Xander said vaguely, causing her to look at him in concern. "Sorry, Grandma, but unless we go for complete disclosure – they're never gonna do it –"

Without warning, her boyfriend's eyes changed color, sparkling and shimmering the way they did – and then Green-Eyed Xander started talking in a language she didn't understand, while looking his grandmother directly in the eye. Well, at least this time it wasn't that hissing snake-like patois, or those inhuman squealing noises he'd used for that so-called Miss French –

This was a _**human**_ language, for whatever that was worth. And judging by the look on his grandmother's face, probably a Native American one of some kind. Lakota, maybe? The Doof had said that his mom's mom was part Sioux, hadn't he?

"What did he say?" Cordelia demanded, as soon as the Oracle thing was over. "Mrs. Lambert, what did Xander –"

"Huh?" Idiot Boy interrupted, looking clueless as usual.

"Please, Cordelia, don't ask me to explain. It's, it's better if you and my grandson don't know," Mrs. Lambert choked out, tears suddenly appearing in her eyes.

"What? Oh, man, Grandma – did I just do the Oracle thing on you?" Xander looked shocked. "Holy crap – I didn't tell you that you're gonna _**die**_ or something, did I?"

"No," the old woman choked out, bringing out a lace handkerchief and dabbing at her eyes. "No, dear, it wasn't that. But please, don't ask for details – I mean it. I won't explain. I can't. I mustn't."

"Grandma? You're starting to scare me," her honey said, looking concerned.

"Me, too," Cordelia nodded.

Xander's grandmother suddenly got up out of her easy chair and embraced them both, as they instinctively got up off the couch. Then she started muttering something Cordelia couldn't understand, and neither could Xander, from the confused look on his face.

{ _Oooh, I'm getting a really bad feeling about this,_ } Cordy thought to herself, still trapped in Mrs. Lambert's surprisingly strong grip. { _She knows something bad is coming, I can_ _ **feel**_ _it. But what could be so bad that she can't bring herself to tell us what's what?_ }

* * *

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **May 11** **th** **, 1997**

Wesley knew he was in big trouble, the moment he woke up and found himself tied to a chair in a cave of some sort.

He had a vague, hazy memory of someone banging loudly on his front door – and yet, there had been no one present when he'd opened up. But the next moment, his chest had felt like it was on fire, thanks to two electrodes with wires pumping huge voltage into his body. A taser of some sort? Whatever the electroshock weapon used, he'd fallen down face-first, and been dragged out beyond the threshold of the doorway –

"Good, you're awake. Let's bloody well get on with it, then!" a male voice with a coarse North London accent said, which gave Wesley a major panic attack. "Start talkin', mate. Now! Or else you can guess what 'appens next, right?"

"I don't know what you're –" he started to say, before a knuckled fist impacted his mouth; shattering at least two front teeth, and shutting him up in no uncertain terms.

Even though he thought he'd been prepared for it, at least theoretically, in practical terms – Wesley quickly learned that he had completely underestimated how bad the agony would be, once the vampire got started on him. There was no smart nimble chat, no lamplight directly focused into his eyes, no 'death of a thousand cuts', no 'Bolivian telephone' and, perhaps unsurprisingly, no refinement at all.

When Spike threw battery acid into his face, he couldn't do anything other than scream and then whimper, once he couldn't scream any longer.

When the vampire used a heavy sledgehammer to smash his elbows and knees, he cried like a child.

When his tormentor decided to use the bladed weapons at his disposal, Wesley slipped into the glorious realm of unconsciousness. But that didn't last long; Spike brutally woke him up again.

"Now, look, I reckon we can either do this the easy way, or the hard way," the soulless thing said conversationally, as if he hadn't just spent the last ten minutes or so torturing him. With a brief flash of insight, Wesley suddenly suspected – hazily, through the mind-numbing pain – that William the Bloody honestly didn't think what he'd just done was 'torture.' Rather, just stress relief; albeit of a very twisted sort –

Wesley tried to say 'What's the easy way?', but his lips and tongue weren't working too well right now. Nonetheless, Spike seemed to get it and said, "The easy way? Simple, mate. I turn you; right 'ere, right now. 'N after you wake up, you'll spill yer guts immediately. Stands ta reason, dunnit? You won't want to end up extinct just like the rest of us, that's just bloody ridiculous!"

"H'rd w'y?" Wesley managed to mumble, blood spilling out of his broken mouth and bleeding gums.

Spike grinned, as his sire – Drusilla – came to stand alongside him. "You know the old saying, 'ey? If ya get captured by the enemy, never, _**ever**_ let 'em hand you over to the women. 'Sides, Dru's been wanting ta talk to you. Isn't that right, luv?"

"Everything's changed now, Spoike," Drusilla said, swaying dreamily, her eyes dark and distant. "It's all gone insides to outwards, hearts exploding, and blood boiling..."

"That's lovely, pet," Spike said comfortingly, even though he sounded more than a little confused as well. "Now, do ya wanna show this ponce just how bad his situation really is? Or shall we simply skip ta the big finish?"

Drusilla said nothing; she just stood there swaying, clutching her doll, and gazing dreamily off into the far distance. Then she said, "Sacrifice of three, dear heart. Counting down from three, two, one – zero!"

Spike just shrugged and smiled hungrily at him. "Take that as a 'yes', then. Right, you – time ta start dying!"

Wesley already knew that he was going to die – his wounds were mortal ones, even if the vampire hadn't already stated that he was intending to turn him – but at that moment, he lost all hope of rescue as well. So, all things considered, Wes felt rather fortunate that he had listened to Rupert Giles' advice, and undertaken the Oath of Loyalty last week.

He opened his mouth; and immediately the Oath took effect, ending his life as surely as a bullet to the brain – as his blood boiled, and his heart exploded out of his chest.

The last thing Wesley heard, before his soul fled his body, was Spike's animalistic roar of fury as that damned creature realized what had happened –

* * *

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **A few hours later, not long before dawn**

Dalton was nervous. But then again, he had every right to be.

Not only was he trapped here in Sunnydale, just like every other vampire, and facing the prospect of genocide – but that thing with the Watcher had failed completely, and it was more than likely _**he**_ was the one who was gonna pay the price for that failure. That crackpot, Drusilla – he didn't like the way she'd been looking at him, once he'd come back after dumping the body! And Spike wasn't any different, not now – not after the prisoner had somehow committed suicide –

{ _Come on, come on,_ } he thought to himself anxiously. { _Think of something. Get their attention off of you, somehow. Think, think, think! Spike wants to find that so-called Seed of Wonder, whatever that is, as well as that 'nexus of chaos'. Alright, so what's the best way to do that? A revealing spell of some sort? I don't – wait. Didn't I see something before-?_ }

Rapidly looking through one book after the other, Dalton finally found what he was looking for. A Germanic incantation, along with a potion of some sort. He didn't have all the ingredients required to make it, but that wasn't such a big deal – he simply ordered some of Spike's minions to head to the surface and break into the local magic shop, and steal whatever he was lacking. The other vampires didn't look happy about their orders (not that he could blame them, if he was in their shoes!), but that was the good thing about being under the direct command of William the Bloody and his paramour – none of them dared disobey him, assuming that this was a sanctioned mission of some sort.

(Which, had he told Spike and Drusilla what he was up to, it almost certainly would have been. But just in case something went wrong, there was no point in getting them angry enough to dust him for wasting precious time.)

Dalton waited impatiently, and finally, one of the minions came back. "What took you so long?" he demanded.

Lucius snarled back, "What do you _**think**_ took me so long?! It's a fucking nightmare up there! Apparently, City Hall put an evening curfew in place yesterday, and all the vampire hunters in town aren't even trying to hide what they're up to anymore! I had to sacrifice those three idiots you sent along with me, just to make it back here in one piece!"

"Keep your voice down," Dalton told him roughly, before grabbing the bag of supplies out of the other vampire's hand. "You want either Spike or Drusilla to hear you complaining?"

"Pfagh! The Master was much better than those two. At least he followed our traditions! Nowadays, though, we're getting slaughtered by the Slayer and her Council backup!" Lucius complained.

"Oh, boys?"

"Look out, she's heard us," Dalton said fearfully. As the undead Seer approached he asked, "Yes, Drusilla?"

"Which looks better, the blue dress or the purple one?" she asked, holding up a couple of tattered-looking Victorian era dresses.

Looking first at him and then back at Drusilla, Lucius replied, "The purple one."

With a small smile, Drusilla dropped the dresses and flung a stake out with lightning speed. Before Lucius even had time to scream, he was a pile of dust on the floor.

"Wrong. I like the blue one. Don't you agree, Dalton?" the mad Seer asked politely.

"Yes. Y-yes, Drusilla!" he stammered, in fear of his unlife.

"Well. You'd best get on with makin' that potion then. Ta-ta," Drusilla said, before she picked up the dresses and simply walked away.

{ _She knows? How could she have-? No, stupid question,_ } Dalton chastised himself sternly, before getting to work. { _After the past year or so, you_ _ **know**_ _what she's like! Just get on with it!_ }

Carefully, he began mixing the shredded wolfsbane with the crushed satyrian root, before dropping the toadstone into the mixture. Waiting a few minutes, he added a few more liquid ingredients and then poured the mixture into a small brown bottle. Everything seemed to have gone okay; so taking a deep (unneeded) breath, Dalton went to find Spike, and explained what he'd been up to.

"Revealing spell, eh?" Spike sniffed dismissively. "You really reckon that's gonna work?"

"Hush, Spoike," Drusilla said, before he could reply. "Every good boy does fine, you'll see. Just do it. Do it now!"

"Ihr Götter, ruft euch an! Verbergt euch nicht hinter falschen Gesichtern!" Dalton immediately chanted in German, hoping that he'd gotten the pronunciation right. Then he smashed the potion down onto the floor.

Immediately, the air started shimmering and sparkling in the rear section of the cavern. A small, crimson-colored, egg-shaped _**thing**_ – whose interior was somehow glowing white – then became visible, floating in mid-air.

"The Seed," Drusilla whispered, her eyes now wide. "It fills my 'ead, it does. I can't hear anything else!"

"Well, it's about bloody time something went right around 'ere!" Spike exclaimed jovially, and Dalton almost fell flat on his face after the other vampire clapped him _**hard**_ on the back. "Well done, mate!" Spike then headed straight for the Seed, looking determined. "Right then, let's smash you to pieces –"

"Why the rush, William?" an almost-forgotten, yet incredibly familiar voice asked mildly, and Dalton immediately fell to his knees as the Master appeared out of nowhere. Making no sound, he simply bore witness as the eldest vampire of all time grabbed Spike by the throat and lifted him up off the ground. "Because there are other things you should be concerned about, right now."

"YOU?! You can't be here! Ruddy hell, I'm 'aving that nightmare again, aren't I? C'mon, wake up!" Spike actually started pinching himself, much to Dalton's disbelief. "Wake up!"

"I'm afraid that won't do you any good, William," the Master's red-gold eyes actually seemed to glow with amusement as he said that. "Because this isn't a dream. The Seed has resurrected me. And now, finally, I will have my revenge for your betrayal –"

"No you won't, Great-grandfather," Drusilla interrupted. "You'll not harm my precious Spoike, no, no. Well, not too much. Psst! We're going to destroy the world. Want to come along?"

The Master instantly threw Spike aside, and stalked over towards Drusilla. But all of a sudden, red – magical? – manacles appeared, chaining up the ancient vampire and dragging him back towards the Seed. "Oh, for – is that really necessary?" the Master asked peevishly, looking at the red egg-shaped artefact. "We both know I'm not going anywhere!"

"The blood of a man, the bones of a child, and the Word of Valios," Drusilla then chanted, causing Dalton to look at her in confusion. "It's time, Great-grandfather. Won't you please help?"

"You. Dalton, isn't it? Get up – and bring my books here at once. All of them!" the Master abruptly commanded him, and Dalton eagerly scrambled to do the resurrected vampire's bidding. As he left, he heard the Master say calculatingly, "Come closer, child. Don't think I've forgotten about your betrayal – I haven't – but before we get to that, tell me more about your plan to destroy this world!"

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **May 12** **th** **, 1997**

"I'm kinda worried, Will. Wes didn't show up for work today, and Ms. Calendar said the Watchers have no idea where he is," Buffy said to her best friend, a frown appearing on her face as they walked towards the student lounge. "Where could he have gone?"

"I don't know," Willow replied. Buffy could tell her best friend was just as worried as she was, however hard the redhead tried to hide it, before Willow added, "I, I could try to do a locator spell – but, y'know, kinda hard, now that I don't have my spell book anymore! And there's no point trying the telepathy thing either; I can transmit but I can't receive, at least not yet. I'm, I'm kinda lost for ideas here!"

"Hate to admit it, but yeah – me, too," Buffy mused, as they sat down at one of the tables. "Damn it, I thought it was always Tuesday that this sort of thing happened –"

"Well, it is!" Willow interrupted. "I mean, there was the day Miss French almost killed Xander in that Science classroom – and that day at the zoo when Cordelia was possessed by that Hyena spirit, along with those other four kids – and, and there's lots of other examples! Even if I can't remember all of them, right this second..."

"Yeah, me neither. Anyway, Saturday night. Who was that purple-haired guy I saw you talking with at the Bronze?" she asked, deciding to change the subject.

"Oh, you mean Oz?" Willow grinned excitedly. "He's kinda nice, Buff. I mean, he's a junior at school; plus, he plays bass guitar, and he's thinking of starting a band!" Her friend lost a bit of her excitement as she added, "He told me that his best friend disappeared months ago, a guy named Devon something, or else the band would have been established long before now."

"Devon?" Buffy said musingly. Then her eyebrows shot up. "Wait! My first day at Sunnydale High, later that night at the Bronze; didn't some guy named Devon call Cordelia a 'great piece of ass' or something like that, and chase after her? Y'know, after bumping into Jesse?"

"Oh. Yeah. Hey, you're right," Willow nodded, scrunching her forehead in concentration. "That was probably him, yup. Not that he ever got anywhere with her, obviously – and Cordelia was probably already fixating on Xander by then, anyway."

"Odds are. Oh, here they come. Xander! Cordy! Over here!" she called out, attracting the pair's attention. "Have you guys got a sec?"

"Sure, Buff. What's up?" Xander sort of ambled over, with Cordelia hanging off his arm. "And are you two gals enjoying this lovely Monday morning?"

"Nope. Wesley's missing," Buffy replied, and she wasn't surprised to see Xander's face tighten up in concern. Cordelia's, too. "Apparently, no one's seen him since Saturday night."

"What does the Tweed Brigade have to say?" the brunette asked, after Xander sat on one of the chairs and his girlfriend subsequently settled herself comfortably on his lap.

"Council people don't know anything," she said shortly, the worry starting to get to her all over again. "Or if they do, they're not telling me squat. Dammit, but I hate being treated like a, a kid by those people! Don't they understand that I'm the Slayer? I _**need**_ to know –"

"Might want to lower your voice, Buffy," Cordelia interrupted, looking around. "We're in public, remember? The walls have ears, and all that?"

"Oh. Right," she nodded, feeling slightly embarrassed. "The whole secret identity thing, got it. Even though I pretty much suck at that, to be honest with you."

"Ya know, if Jesse was here right now – he'd probably make some comment that you're a real-life superhero, Buff. And how he'd love to see you in spandex and wearing a teeny-tiny mask, or something like that," Xander mused.

"Yeah, and Aura would kill him the moment she heard him say that!" Willow shook her head. "Speaking of which, there she is. And, and she's not alone..."

Buffy instantly noticed how Jesse's girlfriend was being hassled by Larry Blaisdell; that annoying meathead was talking to the black girl while holding her arm, and not letting her get away. "I better get over there –"

"No, don't bother – I'll handle this," Cordelia proclaimed, gracefully sliding off of Xander's lap. "This kind of battle doesn't require your – brand of expertise."

Buffy wasn't surprised to witness Xander get up and follow his girlfriend over to Larry and Aura; but she _**was**_ surprised to see the quarterback immediately let go of the cheerleader, once he noticed who was heading towards him. { _Huh. I can kill vampires and fight demons without even breaking a nail, but Cordelia's the one all the boys get scared of whenever she looks at them funny? Dang. Can't actually help feeling a bit jealous about that!_ }

"Seriously, Willow – I'm thinking that rumor Jonathan and Marcie spread around campus? The one about you hypnotizing me and Aura with regard to Jesse, on Cordelia's orders? Worked even better than what Xander was expecting!" Buffy said to her best friend, as she witnessed Larry trying to stand his ground in the face of the beauty queen's wrath.

"Yeah, I guess. It's just, y'know – I've gotten quite a few funny looks lately, 'cause of that," Willow shrugged. "Plus, would you believe that one of Harmony's flock actually came right up to me, and asked if it was true? And if it was, whether I could hypnotize her to lose weight – in order for her not to lose her spot on the cheerleading squad? I had utterly no idea what to say!"

Buffy tried not to giggle, but failed miserably. "Makes me glad I decided to quit the whole cheerleader thing, way back when –"

Xander suddenly began screaming, a single high-pitched note that immediately had all the students in the lounge clutching their ears and trying to block out the horrible noise. Drawing on reserves of strength she didn't know she had, Buffy raced over to the Oracle, grabbed him by the wrist and hauled him out of the room, clapping a hand over his mouth to stop that awful sound from driving everyone batty!

"What the hell was that?!" Buffy demanded of Xander, once his eyes had changed back to brown from green and all the sparkling and shimmering stopped.

"What was what? Hey, what the – how'd I get here?" the big dummy asked in confusion, looking around. "Wasn't I in the lounge just now?"

Buffy wanted to growl in annoyance – she _**hated**_ how Xander totally blanked out whenever the Oracle thing happened, and was Clueless Boy in the immediate aftermath – but before she could say anything, Willow and Cordelia arrived on the scene.

"The hell did you _**do**_ just now, you idiot?!" Cordelia demanded, smacking her boyfriend on the chest. "It wasn't enough you went all green-eyed o-word and told Larry he was secretly gay – which actually explains a lot, you know! – but then you shattered that window like some kind of demented opera singer? Seriously, Goof Boy, aren't _**you**_ the one who always keeps telling me that you need to maintain a low profile?!"

Xander never got the chance to reply – because at that moment, the earthquake struck.

The whole building began to shake, and outside, the four teens could hear car alarms start to go off. "Quake! Everybody, under the stairs or inside a doorframe!" Xander yelled, before grabbing his girlfriend and moving away.

Buffy wasn't slow to take her friend's advice; she grabbed Willow's hand and they rode out the earthquake under the nearby stairs leading to the second floor of the school.

And yet, all the while, she couldn't stop thinking, { _That's never happened before, has it? Xander's ability acting like a – well, an early warning system of some kind. So, maybe – his power's growing. Changing. Still, what does that mean? And more importantly, how's it gonna help me get rid of all the vampires?_ }

TBC…

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry about the minor delay in posting this chapter, real life reared its ugly head in the form of a lot of student homework to be graded. Getting to be that time of year, I'm afraid. Anyway, I hope you'll review and send feedback of some sort - because the truth is, it's time to start wrapping this story up! I figure one or two more chapters, tie up all the loose ends; before the final battle between the humans and vampires takes place. Looking forward to hearing from you, and thanks in advance for doing so!


	36. Til Death

**Chapter Thirty-six: 'Til Death**

 **4 Parkview Crescent, Sunnydale**

 **May 12** **th** **, 1997**

* * *

Cordelia followed Xander out to the balcony – the same balcony they'd used to talk, and kiss, back on her birthday – feeling concerned. And for quite a number of reasons.

For one thing, earlier today – while he was all green-eyed, her boyfriend had called the football team quarterback a 'queer' directly to his face! Larry probably would have flattened him, if the jock hadn't been completely stunned by what had happened. And geez – was the Doofus not even _**trying**_ to avoid eye contact with people anymore, when it came to the Oracle thing?

(Okay, so maybe Xander had been distracted with concern that Larry would hit her, in retaliation for kicking him in the balls over that herpes rumor way back when. Which was kinda touching, and more or less expected of a Good Boyfriend. But still!)

But there was another reason why she was concerned about the Dweeb – what had happened _**after**_ Larry had been out'ed in public. That ear-splitting noise that had come out of her honey's mouth! And just before the earthquake, too. Had that been, like, a sign of some sort?

{ _Uch, I'm starting to sound like my mother,_ } Cordy thought to herself in annoyance. { _I mean, sheesh! Focus, here!_ }

"Xander?" she said hesitantly, coming over to join him. She took a moment to appreciate the nice suit he was wearing, since her significant other and his parents had been invited to dinner tonight and formal wear was pretty much expected. "You okay?"

He didn't answer at first, although his left hand reached out for hers and she automatically grasped it tightly. Then Xander turned around to face her, and he replied, "I don't know."

Those three words were enough to cause the bad feeling in the pit of her stomach to grow worse, and just for once, Cordelia wished she hadn't told him to never lie to her. Some 'comforting bullshit' would have been kinda welcome right now. Pulling herself together, she asked, "What's wrong?" Off his look, she added in embarrassment, "Okay, other than the obvious..."

"I'm scared," Goof Boy admitted, his eyes meeting hers. "I mean – I realized today just how little I actually know about the whole Oracle gig! Because it's not only how I say things, and I have no memory of it, afterwards. That I can live with – sort of. But I'm _**doing**_ things as well. And it's not just today, what happened with that broken window – do ya remember when everyone's nightmares came to life? You told me later on how, with just a few words coming out of my mouth, that Ugly Man guy lost all of his limbs! And if that wasn't just part of Billy's nightmare, what if that happens again? Oh my God, what if I do that to _**you?!**_ What if I –"

She slapped him hard across his left cheek. "Stop it. You hear me? That's not gonna happen – I know for a fact you'd never hurt _**me**_ that way! Not an option. So knock it off, lame brain! Or I'll kick your ass so hard, you'll bounce all the way to, to – Scotland, or whatever!"

"Cap'n, she canna take much more o' this – she's gonna blow!" Xander instinctively riposted in a thick Scottish burr. He then changed his voice to a deeper pitch, and added, "But, Scotty, I like that in a woman."

 _ **THWAP!**_

Cordelia belted him on his right cheek, this time – before kissing him hard on the mouth. She simply couldn't help it. { _Auggh! What's wrong with me? How can I want to jump his bones so badly right now, it's taking everything I've got not to yank Xander upstairs and into my bed for the night?!_ }

"I swear, Harris, sometimes I truly hate you. Despite the fact that I also love you more than anything," she told him, once she unfastened her lips from his.

"I love you too, honey," Xander replied, holding her tight – and obviously not caring about creasing her brand new, cherry-red Vera Wang dress. Okay, so she didn't care about that either, at least not right now – well, not too much anyway – but still! Then the Dumbass let go of her and stepped back. "I really, really do."

"Well, duh!" she told him, with a huge smile on her face. "If you didn't, do you _**honestly**_ think I would have ever let you become my first?" { _Not to mention my one and only, if everything goes according to plan!_ }

"Nope," he shook his head. "So, do you think the 'rents have guessed we've already gone that far?"

"Yours? I dunno. But given the way Mother was looking at me knowingly, and Daddy's had that huge grin on his face all night? Probably," Cordelia scrunched up her nose a little.

"Oh. Yeah, Mr. Chase has been kinda happy this evening, hasn't he? That would explain it, I guess. I was kinda hoping it was something else, though. Like, he's finally managed to fix that whole tax cheat thing, or whatever," Xander frowned.

"I don't know if that's even possible," Cordy frowned. "I mean, sure, we've put into place contingency plans – but other than hiding assets and flying out of the country at a moment's notice? It's either Daddy comes clean and throws himself at the mercy of the courts – and I think we both know how they won't show him any – or else he frames his accountant for the whole thing. Neither one is guaranteed to avoid any jail time!"

"Wish there was something I could do to help," he replied, hugging her again. Then the Dorkhead smiled and stepped back. "Oh, almost forgot. Would a gift help?"

{ _Have we met, Idiot Boy? How can giving me gifts possibly_ _ **hurt?**_ } Putting that instinctive, materialistic and somewhat unwelcome thought aside, she said, "Depends on the gift. What did you have in mind?"

"Something my grandma gave me, when we visited her in Ojai." He reached into his suit pocket and brought out –

{ _A ring? OH MY FREAKING GOD, IS HE GONNA PROPOSE?!_ } Cordelia immediately shrieked inside her mind, as she saw the thin circle of silver in her boyfriend's hand. She had no idea whether she'd say yes or no, before she suddenly noticed something. { _Wait, there's no diamond, that's not an engagement ring – so what the-?_ }

"Grandma Lambert wanted me to give this to you," Xander said, placing the silver ring on her right ring finger. "She said I'd know when the time was right. And it's kinda funny, actually – remember back when Jesse saw us kissing for the first time? He said to me later on that if it was him, he'd have already given you a promise ring, and started saving up money for the engagement ring –"

"Grrf. Auggh! That idiot would have, too. I swear, I don't know how Aura puts up with him!" she interrupted, before looking down at the ring on her finger. "So, what is this, exactly?" Cordelia looked her boyfriend in the eyes and added, "What's it supposed to mean?"

"It's a gift, like I said," Xander replied, moving closer. "But it's also something to show that I want a future with you – and no one else. We're way too young to get engaged, Cordy, but I –"

He never got the chance to finish that sentence, because she immediately kissed him all over again. { _Ya know, Stalker Boy may actually have been right for once. Because, yeah... we're way too young right now – but if you don't give me an engagement ring at some point after my eighteenth birthday, Dweeb? You'll_ _ **really**_ _regret it!_ }

* * *

 **Private residence, Los Angeles**

 **The next day**

Liam briefly watched as the McNally kid did the homework his tutor had assigned earlier today, before he turned away and started reorganising his weapons cabinet. He didn't know why, exactly, but the male teen's presence in his home made him somewhat uncomfortable.

Hrmm. Maybe it was because he'd been living alone for close to a hundred years, and didn't know how to deal with a (thankfully temporary) roommate any longer. Or maybe it was because he knew that the boy had dated his beloved Buffy, even if that had only been the one time and it had never actually gone anywhere. Or maybe it was –

{ _Yeah. No point in trying to deny it, is there? I don't like how Buffy almost literally threw herself at this guy, and got into a fight with another girl over him, thanks to that Willow girl's love spell,_ } Liam brooded. { _Sure, it wasn't the kid's fault – he didn't_ _ **ask**_ _that red-haired amateur to do what she did – but then the spell would never have made Buffy go crazy that way, if she didn't feel_ _ **something**_ _for him. Would it?_ }

"Hey, dude? I'm officially done with my trig assignment," McNally called out, causing him to blink and return his attention to the male teen. "You need me to give you a hand with anything?"

"No, I'm fine. Thanks for asking," Liam shook his head.

"Cool. Okay, then, I'm gonna make myself a snack." The young man headed over to the fridge, opening it up and looking around. "Damn. We're out of mayo again?"

"Put it on the list. I'll go shopping later tonight, before patrol," Liam replied absently.

"Right. Uh, I know we've discussed this before, but – are ya sure you don't want any backup when you go out there? I mean – the accommodations here are okay, don't get me wrong, and I'm grateful how you took me in when I had to get out of SunnyD – but after all this time? I almost feel like I'm starting to develop, uh... what's it called? Cabin something –"

"Cabin fever, yes, I'm familiar with it," Liam nodded. "But you know the rules; you gotta stay out of sight. If you want, I could ask Doyle and Harry if it's okay with them for you to spend a night or two at their place? Maybe next weekend, or whenever it's suitable."

"Thanks, that'd be great," the boy exhaled in relief. "Sheesh; never thought I'd miss my buds this way, to be honest with ya. My girlfriend, too – well, if Aura actually is that for me, of course. I swear, after all the vamps are gone – assuming that actually happens – we definitely need to talk about that!"

"Yeah. I just wish I knew more about when that'll happen, damn it," he muttered.

"Guess this has gotta be your lucky day, then, huh?" a familiar Bronx-accented voice said from the other side of the room. Liam barely had time to swing his head in that direction before Whistler added, "Listen up, Lord of the Hair-gel; it's time. You need to get your ass over to the Hellmouth, and I suppose you may as well take him..." the Messenger nodded his head towards McNally, "...with you. Or not, it's totally up to you."

"Who the heck are you?" the youth demanded in confusion.

"Name's Whistler. And I'm here to tell you white hats that the big event's about to start, up north. Tonight, either all the vamps end up history – or this world ends up in Hell!"

"Drusilla?" Liam demanded, quickly figuring out what the cryptic warning had to mean as the McNally kid ran over to the weapons cabinet and quickly armed himself.

"Yeah," Whistler grimaced. "It's happening a year or so earlier than the Powers originally anticipated, but you gotta stop her. And just so it's clear? Win or lose, this is the last time we'll ever meet; the Powers have officially terminated my assignment with you, Champ. So good luck, and been nice knowin' ya!"

* * *

 **City Hall, Sunnydale**

 **Not long before sunset**

"So you're, like, the Number Two Guy in the Council?" Buffy asked, eyeing the new arrival in Sunnydale carefully. For a moment, she wished she was back in the familiar setting of the high school library – this meeting room was still too new for her to feel like it was her home turf – but quickly putting that aside, she concentrated on the scone-head in front of her. "Well, can ya tell me what's the what on my missing Watcher?"

"Miss Summers. Has anyone ever told you that your hopeless mangling of the English language is something you ought to be ashamed of?" the new guy – Mr. Travers – asked, as he sat down and then sipped slowly from a cup of tea.

"Sure, first Merrick and then Wesley. And you can tell how much attention I paid to either of them – because this is America, mister! Over here, we talk however the hell we want to," she replied straightaway. "Now answer the damn question, okay?"

"Very well. And the answer is no, Miss Summers. I have no idea where young Wyndam-Pryce is." She noticed his beady-eyed stare before he added, "Nonetheless, I have my suspicions. And you do realize that the man is almost certainly dead or worse by this point, do you not?"

{ _Uncaring asshole._ } "Yeah, it's occurred to me. And your attitude? Really inspirational. It helps when the troops realize that their leader actually cares whether they live or die, I'm sure!"

"Have you ever fought a war, Miss Summers?" Travers asked, looking somewhat amused. "And I'm not talking about your nightly battles against the vampires and demons here on the Hellmouth. No, I'm talking about large-scale conflicts between armies. Having to do things like sending your comrades out on suicide missions, to make sure the sun still rises the next morning. Killing human beings who worship malevolent otherworldly demons, in order to prevent their patron from destroying this world. Do you honestly believe doing things like that without caring who lives or dies is even feasible?"

He paused and then said, "I've met a grand total of twenty-seven Vampire Slayers, Miss Summers, including yourself. In my youth, I thought that each and every one of them should be spared the terrible burden placed upon their shoulders. Nonetheless, they were Chosen – and so they fought, and eventually, they died. All of them. Some at the hands of a random vampire or demon; and some from preventing the Apocalypse itself from occurring. That's how I learned that regard for the individual soldier at the expense of the big picture is nothing but a recipe for disaster, you see. And that leadership requires the willpower and strength to know when sacrifices need to be made. If you get the chance to live long enough, now that the final battle against the undead is almost upon us, I'd imagine you'll learn that for yourself."

"Yeah, about that – if this thing with all the vamps in the world happens the way I want it to? Then what's gonna happen to me, afterwards?" she asked, pointedly ignoring the rest of the old guy's speech. "No vampires equals no need for a Vampire Slayer, so – what? I end up plain old Buffy Summers again, the way I was over a year ago? Or I just retire from the whole Slayage gig?"

"I honestly don't know." The British stuffed shirt exhaled loudly. "We shall simply have to see. However, should you retain your powers – well, I very much doubt you will be able to just ignore the presence of non-vampire evil in this world, as it were. Not in the long term, anyway. The Watcher Diaries are very clear on how the older the Chosen One gets, the more intense becomes the instinct for her to hunt her enemies, instead of the other way around. A Slayer in ancient Greece who somehow lasted for seventeen years is my case in point."

{ _Great. Just great! Sounds like I'm_ _ **doomed**_ _not to be able to have a normal life, if the superpowers don't just vanish_! } Buffy complained to herself. { _I don't –_ }

At that moment, Ms. Calendar and her boyfriend – Mr. Gyles, or whatever his name was – knocked and entered the room. "Excuse me, Quentin, but could we possibly interrupt?" the Tweed Guy asked respectfully.

"Yes, Rupert, what is it? Miss Summers, you may go," the Other Tweed Guy said absently, much to her annoyance.

"Actually, she should stay, since this concerns Wesley's disappearance," Ms. Calendar sent her a sympathetic look, which immediately made her insides freeze up. "I'm so sorry, Buffy. But one of the Council patrols just found the body – it was in the sewers, it looked like someone had just dumped it there –"

"Wes is dead?" she asked in a small, almost tiny voice. "Where is he? I want to see him. I, I have to make sure he doesn't –"

"In my opinion, i-it would be better if you didn't see your Watcher's remains, actually," Rupert interrupted, looking kinda ill. "The body i-is currently at the city morgue, being prepared for transport back to England. The, uh, the team who found him – Smith, Collins and Weatherby – they reported that Wyndam-Pryce's heart was missing. It looked like it had exploded out of his chest; so, um, th-there's no danger he'll rise as one of the undead, tomorrow night."

"There was no blood left in the corpse, correct? And no vampire bite marks present?" Travers asked sharply. When Mr. Gyles nodded, the older man replied, "The Oath of Loyalty, then. I assume Wesley's remains were found with evidence of inflicted torture?"

"If you count his face being half melted, thanks to something which smelled like battery acid? Yes," Ms. Calendar looked disgusted and angry.

"Spike and Drusilla," Buffy growled, the rage and hate suddenly exploding into life within her.

"Most likely, yes. And please try to calm down, Miss Summers," Travers abruptly ordered her. "We were just discussing this, remember? Your Watcher's murder will be avenged, but we must not lose sight of the big picture –"

"The _**hell**_ with your big picture! First, I lost Merrick! Now, Wesley!" she screamed, completely enraged. "Just point me in their direction; 'cause I swear, those two vamps are gonna end up _**dust piles!**_ "

At that moment, more people burst into the room. Liam, Xander, Cordelia, Willow and even Jesse and Aura. Travers stood up and said, "What's the meaning of this-?"

"Red Alert, British Guy! That Whistler dude showed up in L.A., and told us tonight's the night!" Jesse said breathlessly, as Buffy stared at him in shock. "As in end of the world, or end of all the vamps!"

"The end of the world?!" Ms. Calendar said, looking horrified. "Oh ye gods, that earthquake yesterday – it must have been a portent of –"

"Drusilla's big day," that Liam guy nodded, before looking at her. "You okay?"

"They just found Wesley's body, and odds are your 'daughter' and her boy-toy were the ones who tortured him before he killed himself," she told him in a tight, deadly voice. "So I am _**not**_ okay, on a majorly epic scale!"

"The hell have I gotten myself into?" Aura muttered, before she started clinging to Jesse the moment he came close enough.

"The Librarian Guy is dead? And, and he was tortured as well?" Cordelia asked hesitantly.

"Stop. We don't have time for this!" Liam interrupted urgently. "The immediate priority is to prevent the Apocalypse!" He turned to Mr. Gyles – Rupert – and said, "Do you know where Spike and Dru are holed up in town, nowadays?"

"Uh, no, not as such, a-actually," the Watcher shook his head. "They managed to escape when we burned down the warehouse they were using a while back, and, uh –"

Buffy then noticed Xander grab Mr. Gyles, turn him around and look him directly in the eye. Ignoring Travers and his stupid-ass demands to know what was going on, she waited, hoping and praying that her friend would come up with the goods quickly –

" _The mad Seer will attempt to open the Hellmouth located far below the high school library, but you must ensure that the Slayer is not present to enter into battle with her and her minions. The Chosen One and her two companions must seek out the Seed and Heinrich, instead."_

{ _What? Oh, that's like total bullshit!_ } Buffy thought to herself angrily, as everyone started babbling at the same time. { _I'm supposed to go off on some wild goose chase, instead of avenging Wes's death and turning that undead 'ho into dust in the wind? Not to mention prevent the end of the world? Oh, I don't frickin' think so!_ }

"What is the meaning of this?" Travers suddenly demanded loudly, causing everyone to shut up. He then started giving Xander the eye, as Cordy got in front of her boyfriend – like that was anything unexpected! "You – ah. You are the green-eyed Oracle, are you not? The one mentioned in Merrick's account of the Loa's prophecy?"

"Guess I am," the male teen admitted.

"Rupert? Did you know about this?" Travers then asked coolly, looking around at the guy in question.

"I did not," he blatantly lied, which caused Buffy to blink. Although, the more she thought about it, the more it made sense; what else was Ms. Calendar's boyfriend gonna say? That he'd known the truth for over a week, but hadn't said anything to anyone because Cordelia had threatened to kill him if he did?

"Very well. Send out the call to arms – our forces shall attack the high school immediately," Travers ordered, as Mr. Gyles nodded and then he and Ms. Calendar left.

Buffy made to follow after them, but Liam grabbed her arm and said, "No, wait –"

"Get your hands _**off**_ me!" she immediately and instinctively punched him in the face, which caused the ex-vampire to let go and stumble back a few steps.

"Miss Summers. Where do you think you're going?" Travers demanded.

"The high school. Where else?" she demanded heatedly.

"No. I forbid it," the stuck-up asshole shook his head. "You heard what the Oracle said –"

"What did I say, exactly?" Xander interjected, looking somewhat confused.

"Uh, that that Drusilla vampire is gonna open the Hellmouth, but that Buffy shouldn't be there, 'cause she needs to go find something called the Seed. And, and someone named Heinrich," Willow told him, with a puzzled look on her face.

"Well, that doesn't make sense, does it?" Cordelia asked, looking around.

"Like anything has, like since the moment I got here?" Aura demanded. Then her eyes went wide. "Oh! Wait. Xander, didn't you tell me to sit this thing out, if I wanted to reach my full potential or whatever?"

"You already knew who the Oracle was? Ah, of course you did. I'd likely wager that _**all**_ of you knew, and said nothing to Wyndam-Pryce about it," Travers said, looking disappointed.

Buffy opened her mouth to correct him, but then quickly closed it with an audible snap. No point in telling the Armchair General here that he'd caused Wes to lose faith in him and his organization all those months ago, by deliberately keeping her Watcher in the dark about things he'd needed to know. "Newsflash. I still haven't heard a single good reason for me not to go to Sunnydale High, and start kicking some undead ass!"

"What? Xander's word suddenly isn't good enough for you anymore?" Cordelia asked archly, raising her eyebrows. "Why? I thought you trusted my boyfriend implicitly. Or is it just that you don't want to follow his advice, on account of you wanna personally kill the vampires who you think tortured Mr. Windy Price-tag?"

Buffy instantly glared at her, volcanic fire burning in her eyes. "Why, you-!"

"Buffy. Wes's death wasn't your fault," Jesse told her compassionately. "And my best bud has never steered us wrong before, has he? So if Xander said that you need to be elsewhere, then you need to be elsewhere. End of discussion, in my book."

She glared at him mutinously, but before she could say anything, Xander spoke up again. Those green eyes were sparkling and shimmering again, but instead of English, he spoke in guttural grunts and snarls –

– all the while, staring at Mr. Travers.

"Remarkable," the British guy said, staring at Xander curiously once he'd stopped talking and his eyes had gone back to their normal color.

"I didn't know you could speak Fyarl," Liam nodded, echoing the same sort of curiosity.

"I can't," Xander shook his head, glancing at his girlfriend; who simply shrugged helplessly.

"What's Fyarl?" Willow asked, looking back and forth between them.

"A demon language. Why would you use it, though?" Liam asked, staring at Xander in confusion.

"Hrmm. Perhaps because I myself am fluent in that language, and that particular information wasn't for everyone's ears," Travers mused, before turning to face the ex-vampire. "You understood what he said?"

"Yeah, more or less," Liam nodded.

"Okay, then, want to share with the rest of the class?" Buffy said impatiently.

"Uh, in a nutshell? That the Master's back, and that you, me and Xander will have to face him before you can get your hands on the Seed," he replied nervously.

* * *

 **Elsewhere in Sunnydale**

 **Not long after sunset**

Spike left the house he'd just ransacked, holding the silver talisman he'd been told to recover tightly in his hand. Word of Valium, or some such thing.

He could tell it was old, even older than he was – and his inner demon could vaguely sense its mystical power as well. Personally, he would have preferred to just crush the thing under his heel – but if Dru wanted it that badly? Probably not a good idea to do that.

{ _Still can't believe it's come to this,_ } Spike thought to himself, his body still aching after the beating which the Master had inflicted last night. { _Dru saved me by tellin' Heinrich she wants ta destroy the world, and either we follow through on that – or he dusts us both. Lose-lose situation. And how the_ _ **hell**_ _did that effin' ponce really pull off comin' back like that, anyhow? Heard of resurrection rituals, sure – that git Absalom, and other stuff over the past century or so – but just showin' up outta nowhere, right after Dalton uncovered that Seed thing? Either pure shitty luck, or else that jumped-up Easter egg really_ _ **is**_ _a lot more dangerous than I reckoned it was –_ }

"Dru?" he then called out in surprise, seeing his sire not far away. She was standing right there out in the open, and some mortal git was staring at her in a glassy-eyed stupor – wait, what was she _**doing?!**_ Drusilla was feeding the wanker her own blood, without draining him first?

"There's a good boy," she said, before gave the kid a pat on the head, like he was an obedient pooch or something. "Right, off you go then!"

"Dru, what the flamin' hell?!" Spike demanded, as he came closer and the Happy Meal – high school jock, by the look of him – wandered away. "Seriously, luv – don't ya know how dangerous it is, making a _**ghoul**_ that way? There's no tellin' what that bloke's gonna do now!" Then he shook his head at his own stupidity. "Auggh! You already know what he'll do, bloody heck but I'm being thick as a post tonight. Well, here's that talisman you wanted – but I still don't get why –"

"It's us or them now, dear heart," Drusilla interrupted, sounding completely sane just for once. "Either we destroy the world, or the wicked Slayer will destroy all of us." Shocked, Spike could only stare at her in disbelief before his sire added, "Now, you'd best go home to Great-grandfather. He'll need company, he will!"

* * *

 **Somewhere on North McElhaney Avenue, Sunnydale**

 **A while later**

Cordelia was not in a good mood, as she drove home in her father's convertible. Bad enough that her boyfriend had been drafted into going down into the sewers along with the hunk and Little Miss 'I Am The Law'; but there was nothing she could do except return to the mansion, and wait to learn what happened tomorrow morning!

There was no point hanging around at City Hall, the place was now effectively deserted. Plus, the Council people had refused to let her or Jesse or Aura come along on their mission at the school – not that she _**wanted**_ to face a horde of vampires, mind you! – but having to acknowledge that she was effectively useless? That she had no part to play in helping to keep the world in one piece, or getting rid of all the undead tonight?

That was annoying. In more ways than one.

"AUGHHH!" Cordelia screamed, slamming down on the brakes as someone stepped out onto the street and just stood there, waiting to get turned into hamburger. She just _**barely**_ managed to stop in time – there had to be less than an inch remaining between the car and the crazy asshole's legs – and then, when she saw the guy's face, she totally lost it.

"LARRY?! Of all the insane – I nearly killed you, you _**moron!**_ The hell did you think you were doing? And what are you doing out past curfew, anyway?!" she demanded heatedly, glaring at the jock as Blaisdell finally got a clue and headed towards the driver's side door. "Don't tell me this was a stupid dare of some sort? I already know you couldn't be heading towards the Bronze, it's been closed since Saturday night –"

That was all she managed to say before Larry – moving far quicker than he had any right to – grabbed hold of her hair, yanked her head back and then slammed her face into the steering wheel.

The darkness immediately swallowed her whole, and did not spit her back out.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School, Sunnydale**

 **The same time**

Willow was at the back of the Council army heading for the Hellmouth, along with Ms. Calendar. She wasn't sure why she was present – why _**both**_ of them were accompanying the grim-faced soldiers, to be absolutely honest – but she suspected that she was here as magical-type backup. Mr. Giles had said that someone with her talents might come in useful – well, as long as she obeyed orders, and did nothing without authorization.

Heh. Under normal circumstances, Willow could imagine what she would have to say about _**that**_. Her parents, too. Well, if they were actually here in Sunnydale, and she had a chance to tell them –

"What's going on here?!" Principal Snyder's angry voice suddenly impacted on her consciousness, and Willow immediately came to a halt. As far as she could tell, the high school commandant hadn't noticed her yet as he demanded to know, "Who are you people? What are you doing on my campus?! Wait – are those _**weapons**_ you're carrying? You –"

"Shut up and get lost, you arse," Mr. Giles came forward, holding a crossbow in his arms. "One-time offer."

"That's it, I'm calling the police! I – wait a minute, aren't you the British guy who –" Snyder started to say, before one of the Council people came forward and pistol-whipped him into unconsciousness.

"Bloody tosser," Mr. Giles said angrily, before he looked back at his girlfriend. "Janna, could you-?"

"I'll take him to the principal's office, I still remember where it is," Ms. Calendar nodded. "Willow, could you assist in lifting him up? I'd rather not touch the man if I can possibly avoid it."

Willow nodded, and levitated the balding little man up off the ground. Concentrating intensely, she floated the unconscious Snyder along as she followed her former teacher towards the main building; and the Watchers headed in a slightly different direction, to gain access to the high school basement –

* * *

 **Not far from the Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **A short time later**

Buffy wasn't happy. Not only was she playing follow the ex-vampire, but the guy obviously didn't know which way he was going! This was the second time he'd stopped at an underground intersection, not sure how to proceed. "Are you sure you know where to go?"

Liam looked around before saying, "This way." He noticed her stare and asked, "What?"

"Nothing really, it's just – I've seen the way you've been looking at me tonight, mister," she replied uncomfortably. "At first, I thought you were checking out my neck or something, but now that I've had a chance to think about it – well, I kinda doubt that's it –"

"Oh, Buffy, come on!" Xander interrupted, causing her to look back at him. "Angel – sorry, Liam – he's looking at you that way, 'cause he's still in love with you! Now, can we quit pretending we're stuck in an episode of _All My Children_ , and concentrate on the fact that we're heading straight into the lion's den with absolutely no backup?!"

She ignored everything after the _'he's still in love with you'_ crack registered in her brain. Without even thinking about it, she grabbed hold of Liam and whirled the guy around, as all three of them came to a halt. "Is that true?! You're in love with me?"

"Yeah," the guy confessed. "Sorry."

"What?! You're _**sorry**_ about the fact that you're in love with me?" Buffy demanded, not sure she could believe what she was hearing.

"Yeah. 'Cause I know you don't feel the same way about me that I do about you. Plus, you're sixteen, and I'm over two hundred and forty years old... in a twenty-six year old body, sure, but still. Not to mention you live in Sunnydale, and I live in Los Angeles," Liam replied. "I know we can't help who we love, Buffy –"

"Auugh! Somebody, KMN," Xander interrupted rudely.

"KMN?" she turned and glared at Oracle Boy.

"Kill me now. Because this is getting ridiculous," he replied impatiently. "Liam, come on – back me up here! Is this _**really**_ the time?"

"Uh – no, I guess not," the former vamp shook his head. "He's right, Buffy, we need to focus. If the Master's back – this definitely has to wait." He then moved off, as Buffy dropped back to glare at Xander.

"What?" he whispered impatiently, as they walked quickly to catch up with Liam.

"Why didn't you ever say anything to me about this? I thought we were friends!" she whispered back fiercely.

"Why didn't I say anything? One, the age difference grossed me out completely. Two, long distance relationships almost never work out. Three, I thought you still hated the guy from when he was a vamp," Xander murmured, as they caught up with their guide. "And we _**are**_ friends, Buffy. If we weren't, you really think I'd be here right now? Newsflash, but I'd be with Cordelia, instead!"

{ _Stupid guys, with their stupid 'guy' logic!_ } Buffy thought mutinously, as they turned another corner and kept following Liam. But then the former vampire stopped, facing the entrance they'd arrived at. { _Oh. Okay. Guess it's showtime!_ }

"I'm going first," she proclaimed, withdrawing a stake. "Liam, you follow. Xander, you stay here until I say it's safe –"

"No. All three of us have to enter. At least, that's what part of Xander said when he spoke to that Quentin Travers guy," Liam interrupted, shaking his head. "The closest translation I can come up with is 'all must face the darkness', Buffy. If he doesn't –"

"It might jeopardize getting rid of all the vamps, yeah, yeah, got the memo," Buffy said, looking annoyed.

"And thus do we do in the jungle," Xander said, his eyes suddenly hard.

Ignoring that, Buffy led the way down. The place was totally grungy-looking, with a pool of water off to one side and hundreds of candles burning everywhere. Towards the back, there was a floating, red-colored egg thing, and –

"Hello, Spike," Buffy suddenly smiled like a bloodthirsty predator. "I can't tell you how glad I am to see you!"

"Feeling's entirely mutual, bint," Spike snarled, slipping into his demon face. "Let's dance!"

* * *

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **A moment later**

Liam watched spellbound for a moment, as Buffy and Spike rushed towards one another to enter into battle. He was just about to join in, when a familiar voice addressed him. "Welcome, Angelus. Although that's not who you are anymore, is it?"

"No, it's not," Liam acknowledged, turning to face the Master and temporarily ignoring the fight between Buffy and Spike. "It's been a long time."

"Far too long." The ancient vampire strolled forward, examining him carefully. "You don't appear to be afraid of me, boy. Odd. Have you forgotten what I did to you, that first night we met?"

"I kinda doubt it," Xander spoke up, coming up to stand next to him. "But ya know, before we get into the days of yore crap, I gotta say – you really oughta talk to your contractor. Looks to me like you got some serious water damage in here!"

"Oh, good, the feeble banter portion of the evening. You –" the Master suddenly broke off, staring at the Oracle in surprise. "You!"

"Me? Me what?" Harris asked in confusion.

"It's you. I can sense it! Ever since the moment I awoke last year, I knew that something was _**different**_ here on the Hellmouth. And that different thing – is _**you!**_ " the Master growled. He lifted his hand, and began to make slow, twisting motions, his red-gold eyes almost glowing. "Come here!"

Liam grabbed hold of the kid to prevent him from walking to his doom, but it wasn't necessary – the Oracle's eyes had turned green, sparkling and shimmering in the candlelight, and he said:

" _Your hypnotic abilities cannot help you any longer, as your actions are constrained by the Seed – and its destiny now belongs to the Slayer. So resign yourself to the inevitable, Heinrich, for this is a war you cannot win."_

Liam could see the Master's eyes grow wide and the old monster said in disbelief, "You – the so-called Goddess of War, Prophecy and Death! No, no, it can't be – you can't interfere in this, you can't –"

Everyone then heard the sound of a loud explosion of dust, along with the typical screaming hiss of an escaping demon. All three males turned to see Buffy lower her stake, with a look of extreme pleasure on her face. "Finally! One undead pain in my ass gone." Liam almost gulped at the feral look on his beloved's face, as she stared at the Master carefully. "Time to make it two!"

"You – the Slayer. You cannot –" The Master abruptly whirled around and stared at the floating artefact not far away, a look of surprise on his face. "What? A sacrifice? What are you-? NO!" The vampire then roared, and headed straight for Buffy – clearly intent on ripping her throat out.

She never got the chance to kill him, though, as Liam abruptly stepped forward and slammed his fist all the way through the Master's face and out the back of his head.

This time, when he dusted, there was no skeleton left behind.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School basement, Sunnydale**

 **A few seconds earlier**

{ _That bad feeling I was having before? It's a million times worse now,_ } Dalton thought to himself worriedly, as he did the revealing spell again – and a section of the basement floor instantly morphed into a black hole, with nothing visible at the bottom. Long way down.

All the way to the mouth of Hell itself, apparently. Which they were planning to open, in order to save themselves from extinction.

Then another earthquake started, which almost caused him to lose his balance and fall into the damn thing. { _Shit! Shit, shit, shit!_ }

"It's coming," Drusilla muttered, as the fruitcake looked around wildly. "They're coming, they are. They're – no! Where's the Kitten? He's s'posed ta be here! No, no, no! The stars and the moon, they told me, they _**told**_ me he'd be here! Oh, no, not my precious Spoike – NO!" she abruptly screamed. "He can't be gone! He can't be!"

The vampires – all of them who were still around in Sunnydale by this point, roughly fifty or sixty individuals – looked at themselves blankly, and then looked to _**him**_ for guidance. { _Just great!_ }

"First sacrifice, step forward!" he said roughly, trying to stick to the script. The Sacrifice of Three ritual was pretty simple, but also had some fairly strict requirements. One of them was the order and the type of sacrifices. "Ready?"

The volunteer nodded, and stepped forward. Dalton immediately splashed him with the blood of a man, and then he jumped into the hole in the ground.

Immediately, the earthquake resumed, worse than before –

"THERE THEY ARE! KILL THEM ALL!" a British-accented male voice roared, and the basement immediately turned into a battlefield –

* * *

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **A few moments earlier**

"All right, what now?" Buffy asked, feeling slightly annoyed that her thunder had been stolen by that Liam guy just now. Although, she supposed it wasn't all that unexpected, if he really was in love with her –

{ _What, you actually doubt it?_ } an exasperating and yet appreciative voice at the back of her mind whispered to her. { _'Cause nothing says 'I love you' like a guy being willing to kill for you, ya know._ }

Oh, shut up! Stupid inner voice. Buffy shook her head and forced herself to concentrate, staring at her two companions. "Any ideas, guys?"

"Perhaps I might be of some assistance?" the voice of Mr. Travers asked calmly, as the old guy came into view. "Oh my..." Travers lowered the cross he'd been holding, staring at the floating red egg thing. "The Seed of Wonder, itself. I never thought I'd see it with my own eyes."

{ _Great, he's having a total geek-gasm over the latest mystical doodad of the week. Why am I even surprised?_ } Buffy then said, "Wanna make with the 'splainy, then?"

"The Seed," Travers said absently, walking towards it. "According to the legend, it's the source of all life and the heart of all magic on Earth. If anything in this world is capable of banishing and/or destroying all of the undead, Miss Summers, this is it." He leaned forward to touch it, but the Seed's interior glowed a brighter shade of white for a moment and he was sent stumbling backwards.

"Guess it's all look, no touch?" Xander quipped, but with a somewhat nervous look on his face. "Okay, what next?"

"Xander, you said to the Master that the Seed's destiny belongs to Buffy now," Liam spoke up, looking at her. "So I'm assuming that means the rest of us can't touch it. Still, just to make sure?" He reached out to touch the Seed himself, but was instantly repelled, just like Travers. "Xander?"

Hesitantly, her friend tried to grab hold of the Seed, but it shoved him away immediately. "Yeah, I didn't think so. So I guess it's up to you, Buff. Do – whatever it is you're gonna do."

"Feeling kinda nervous here," she said, walking towards the – thing. Wasn't just an egg of some sort, obviously. "No idea what I'm supposed to do, alright?"

"According to the Loa, Miss Summers, the Oracle is supposed to help you accomplish your goal," Mr. Travers interjected, as everyone turned to look at him. "May I suggest, then, you give the Seed to the young man in question – and let Destiny take its course?"

"Oh, boy," Xander breathed. He turned to Liam and said, "Anything goes wrong, tell Cordy I'll always love her, okay?"

"Nothing's gonna go wrong!" she said fiercely, before the ex-vamp could reply. "Xander, you're my friend. I wouldn't let anything bad happen to you!"

"Yeah, I believe ya, Buff," he replied nervously. "So let's just get this over with, shall we?"

Nodding, Buffy reached out to grab the egg thing. And the moment her fingers touched it –

It was _**old**_. It was _**powerful**_. It burned and it soothed and it gave her a high she hadn't imagined was even _**possible!**_ She didn't want to ever let it go – the concept of losing contact with this sort of power was _**unthinkable!**_ Her life would be like totally pointless in that scenario, a mere shadow of what it was now –

But then Madam Devora's voice telling her not to give in to despair, and be willing to do whatever was necessary in order to get rid of all the vamps in the world, spoke inside her brain. And foggily at first, something within her stirred; that unknown and unknowable something, that indefinable quality that made her – and her alone – the Chosen One. It _**forced**_ her to lift the Seed, and to turn around and offer it to her Xander-shaped friend.

{ _AUGHHH!_ } she silently screamed, the agony from losing contact with that incredible power even worse than she'd imagined as Oracle Boy hesitantly took it from her. To her embarrassment, her legs could no longer support her – Buffy quickly realized that she would have collapsed to the floor, if not for Liam grabbing her and holding her up –

And then Xander _**smiled**_.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School basement, Sunnydale**

 **A short time later**

Willow couldn't believe her eyes, as she and Ms. Calendar came down the basement stairs – easily able to hear the screaming and yelling and shotgun blasts and everything else – and then they came upon the scene of battle. The earthquake wasn't helping either; and seriously, if it wasn't for the fact that the Apocalypse might take place at any moment, not taking cover like this was completely _**insane**_ –

"YOU!" a dark-haired vampire woman suddenly yelled, looking right at her. Willow felt fright, as she realized who this individual had to be – Drusilla herself, from Xander and Jesse's descriptions of the crazed vampiress. "You're the witch! Double, double, toil and trouble! Fire burn and caldron bubble! Why didn't you bring my Kitten? Why didn't you –"

Abruptly turning around, Loony Girl grabbed a dark-haired male vampire and shoved a _**bone**_ in his mouth, before yanking him towards the huge hole in the ground. There was no time to think about it – Willow instinctively threw out her arms and _**pulled**_ –

The male vampire instantly flew out of Drusilla's grasp towards her and Ms. Calendar, crash-landing at their feet. Snarling, it attempted to get to its feet – before Ms. Calendar's arm flashed down, and she stabbed it in the back with her stake.

Whoosh! Oh, ewww, ashes in her mouth! { _I hope they don't cause cancer or something –_ }

"NO!" Drusilla screamed. "It's all wrong, it is! Not s'posed ta be like this! I don't – oh, no," the insane thing suddenly looked afraid, staring upwards like she was now aware of some unspeakable wrong. "No, no, no, please, not right, this isn't right, this isn't the way –"

And then Willow saw a sight that she knew would stay with her for the rest of her life, however long she lived.

Drusilla – and all the other surviving vampires – suddenly turned transparent, and started glowing with a sickly yellow light. Their features became different – the human camouflage vanished as the body turned all green and bumpy, the thick face and demonic, the forehead framed by almost horn-like protrusions, while the hands and feet turned into claws and the fangs lengthened considerably.

The vampire shades – wraiths – whatever they were, they all quickly floated towards the school basement stairs, heading upwards as if drawn by a magnet. Willow followed Mr. Giles and Ms. Calendar and the rest of the Watchers as they chased after them, bearing witness as the yellow sources of light were all drawn to a certain point high in the sky –

And that was why Willow simply never noticed when the ghoul that had been Larry Blaisdell headed into the basement, and threw the unconscious Cordelia down into the depths of the Hellmouth.

* * *

 **The Master's underground cavern, Sunnydale**

 **A short while earlier**

Liam instinctively knew they'd made a mistake, the moment Buffy touched the Seed.

His beloved immediately had an expression of combined shock and ecstasy on her face – he'd seen such expressions before, walking the Earth for nearly three centuries and all. Mostly on the faces of drug addicts; especially the fools who thought they could handle stuff like crack or Orpheus without consequences. If Buffy succumbed to whatever it was that had grabbed hold of her –

"Don't interfere," Travers warned him, before Liam tried to forcibly separate Buffy from the Seed of Wonder. "I know that your intentions are good, but you'll almost certainly make things worse – by blundering in like a, a bull in a china shop!"

He glared at the Sassenach, but then Buffy straightened up, and gave the Seed to Xander. Holding his breath, Liam waited to see what would happen next –

Buffy almost fainted, and so he moved to prevent her from falling down. Thus, Liam almost missed seeing the Oracle smile, before the boy said in an echoing, reverberating voice –

" _War and prophecy there has been this night. Now, let there be_ _ **death**_ _."_

The Seed glowed white and red, as Harris was suddenly lifted up off the ground and he floated towards the entrance to the Master's lair. Travers immediately hurried after him, but Liam took a moment to lift Buffy into a makeshift carry – one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back, like a groom carrying his bride across the threshold – before giving chase.

"Are you all right? Buffy, are you okay?" he asked urgently, trying to keep the Oracle in sight as his supernatural strength began to be tested slightly. "Buffy?"

"I'm – not feeling so good," she muttered, which almost made his heart skip a beat in alarm. Liam had no idea what to say when she added, "Mom was right – play with fire, and you're gonna get burned..."

Muttering meaningless words of comfort, Liam held the woman he loved carefully as he headed up to the surface. A few minutes later, they emerged out of the sewers and onto the night-time streets – and Buffy grouchily asked him to put her down, saying she was feeling better. He did so, if somewhat reluctantly – but then he saw a unique sight that almost took his breath away.

Xander was ascending higher and higher into the night sky, glowing crimson and white – the higher he rose, the more intense the glow from the Seed. From all directions, yellow sources of light headed towards him, being sucked into the Seed – which was growing in size –

Oh dear God, there were tens of thousands, _**hundreds**_ of thousands of the yellow light sources being sucked into the Seed! Liam suddenly realized that he was watching history in the making here, the plague of the undead was finally being cleansed from the Earth –

{ _Lord Almighty, but that could have been me,_ } he suddenly thought in horror, as the supernatural purge continued. { _If I'd given in to the temptation of waiting a year or two before becoming human again, I'd be one of those vampires being sent – where? Hell itself? No_ _ **wonder**_ _Whistler said I'd made the right choice, back then –_ }

"Xander..." Buffy said uncertainly, attracting his attention. "What's going on? What's happening to him?"

"He's, uh, helping you get rid of all the vampires," Liam replied dazedly, still taking in the incredible spectacle occurring up above.

"And then what? That Seed thing – it's like nothing I've ever encountered before. I barely had the strength to let go of it – and I still feel like crap now. And I'm the Slayer!" Buffy babbled worriedly. "What are the odds Xander will be able to pull it off as well?"

"I don't –" Liam shook his head, before he suddenly remembered something the Master had said down below. Something about – a _**sacrifice**_ –

The yellow sources of light abruptly became fewer, the celestial light show starting to dim apart from the glowing Seed – the number of vampires left in the world becoming less. Hundreds, then dozens, and then just the final few were sucked into the huge, egg-shaped artefact.

Which suddenly detonated, in an eye-searing explosion of light.

The Seed vanished from view, taking Xander with it.

"NOOOO!" Buffy screamed, and not far away, Liam could hear Willow screaming the exact same word along with her.

To Be Concluded…

* * *

 **A/N:** Sorry again for the minor delay in posting this chapter, and I swear, this was the hardest part of the entire story to write! I was thinking of splitting it into two parts but then I thought, no, better to get it over with and only have one more chapter to go. It's been fun writing this fic – longest one I've ever written, to be sure – but now it's time to start contemplating new projects, after the grand finale gets published. So please tell me what you thought of this chapter, and thanks for reading it!


	37. Brave New World

**A/N:** Welcome, one and all, to the final chapter of the fic! Wow, it's been a long time getting here. I just wanted to thank everyone involved in this story, especially my beta readers (Greywizard, Ironbear and Alkeni) and all the people who have read and reviewed the fanfic, or sent me feedback of some sort. In reverse order of appearance, they are:

Mike3207, TieDyeJackson, Twilight Warrior 627, DonR, Quathis, Bobboky, bwburke94, red-jacobson, David Fishwick, Chi Vayne, DaBillmann, Snorpenbass, goddragonking, Mad Vampire Poet, trongod, Yanagi-wa, Wonderbee31, Guest, Darlok, Smoken71, Chunk127, Rake1810, NaruHarem4ever, Kakabra, Wes George, jayods, lordamnesia, wingofpain, Ceridwen Kalamack, syed, Darkskeleton, Darksnider05, xavierp, Liantei, fullhans1, Falkun, thephoenixandthedragon4ever, SamDeanLove, and anyone else I may have forgotten!

Okay, enough from me, and I hope you enjoy the final chapter of The Oracle! Fare thee well until next time...

* * *

 **Epilogue: Brave New World**

 **Indeterminate location**

 **May 13** **th** **, 1997**

The first thing that Xander Harris noticed was that it was dark and cold.

No light. No warmth. None at all.

Darkness, absolute.

The memories started to trickle back – he remembered being in that underground cave with Buffy, Liam and that Mr. Travers guy, after Spike and the Master had been dusted. He remembered Buffy taking that Seed thing and giving it to him. He remembered feeling a momentary rush he'd never experienced before – not _**quite**_ as good as sex with Cordelia, but pretty darn close – and then... nothing.

At least, not until he found himself in this cold, dark place.

He rubbed his hands together. It felt like – well, the closest thing he could compare it to was his fingers breaking apart like ancient, crumbling paper. { _What's going on? Where am I? How did I even get here?_ }

Questions with no answers, at least not yet. He was all alone, as far as he could tell –

No. Something else was present here – wherever 'here' was – with him. Something large, not to mention powerful.

Not just large – infinite. It encompassed this entire place, whatever it was.

" _It certainly took you long enough to understand, and take notice of Me."_

He tried to respond, to speak, to demand answers – but he couldn't. He was blind and mute, even if he apparently wasn't deaf. Panic started to rise within him –

" _Calm yourself, there is no reason for you to be afraid. And be patient; I need to modify your perception of My domain into something you are capable of relating to."_

He didn't get that, as he felt – something – brush along the edges of his awareness. He didn't like how it felt – it wasn't unpleasant, exactly, but it surely felt _**odd**_. Whatever this being was, it was changing him somehow –

Light. Only a pinprick at first, but then the light grew brighter. Then _**everything**_ went white, all around him. White light so bright, it was like looking directly into an arc-light or something. He instinctively tried to cover his eyes; but then the white light vanished, and he could finally see things again, as reality flickered and changed all around him.

There was a brief glimpse of something which looked like the bridge of the _Starship Enterprise_ , then his living room at home, then Cordelia's bedroom at the Chase mansion; but then the scenery finally stabilised after the Sunnydale High library appeared. "What-?"

"Xander?"

A weight he hadn't even known was there immediately fell from his shoulders. "Cordy!" he yelled happily, rushing towards her. "You're –" Then his eyes went wide. "You're naked!"

"So are you!" the brunette replied, and to his shock, he noticed that his girlfriend was right – he didn't have a stitch of clothing on him.

"What's going on here?" Cordelia demanded angrily, as he came up to her and embraced her tightly. Ignoring the nudity factor, she made a small moaning sound of pleasure, before adding more calmly, "Seriously, Dork, what happened? The last thing I remember, that asshole Larry slammed my head against the steering wheel of my car, and I –" She paused, frowning. "Well, then I found myself here. So start with the explanations, already!"

"Sorry, sweetheart, but I don't know what to tell you," he replied, still holding her tightly. "My best guess is that this is all an incredibly vivid dream of some sort –"

" _No. This is not a dream."_

Cordelia yelped at the sound of that disembodied, echoing voice, and clutched him even tighter. "What? Who are you? What is all this?!"

"Oh, boy," Xander said worriedly. Looking up at the ceiling he said, "Uh, could you please tell us what's going on? And could you also give us some clothes? Nakedness is something of an issue, here!"

"You got that right!" Cordelia exclaimed, before she suddenly found herself wearing a flimsy Ionic chiton – and he himself was clad in a Roman toga. "Eww. Whoever you are, haven't you got anything more modern in your wardrobe? Even Laura Ashley would be better than this!"

"Cordy, please, not now," he said hurriedly. Then he returned his attention to their invisible companion. "Uh, thank you. For the clothes, I mean. But – could you please explain what's going on now?"

" _I could. But first, two questions. And the first one I have for the both of you is, who are you?"_

He blinked, looking around at his girlfriend, who looked similarly surprised. "Uh, I'm Xander Harris."

"And I'm Cordelia Chase," his girlfriend replied, moving away slightly but still maintaining a strong grip on his right hand.

" _That is not entirely correct. Technically, you_ _ **were**_ _those people. Which brings Me to My next question."_ He could somehow hear the capital M's in the invisible being's voice. _"What are you?"_

"Uh, not quite sure how to answer that, to be honest with you," he frowned, going over the question in his head. As well as the answer to the first one – he used to be Xander Harris? That didn't make any sense –

"Me neither. I mean, what do you want me to say? Sunnydale high school student? Former cheerleader? Girlfriend to the Doofus, here?" Cordelia demanded in confusion. "All of the above?"

" _No. It is obvious that you still do not understand."_

"Then please, explain it to us?" he asked politely.

" _Very well. What you are – what both of you are – is dead."_

* * *

 **The same place**

 **A moment later**

Blinking rapidly, Cordelia couldn't believe what she'd just heard. "We're _**what?!**_ "

" _You are dead."_

"But – that can't be right! I mean, Madam Devora said –" she instinctively started to protest.

" _That mortal fortune-teller prophesized what would happen to you and your mate, yes. A century of life together, or less than a decade apart. But those two paths were predicated upon circumstances that ceased to exist, once your mate accepted his new fate as My Voice. Thus, as I said, you are now both dead."_

Cordelia still couldn't believe it. { _Is she saying – Xander and me finally getting together was_ _ **despite**_ _that prophecy, not because of it? Seriously?! And as for the rest of it..._ } Looking around the school library, she gestured with her free hand and said scornfully, "So, what's all this supposed to be? Heaven? It sure doesn't look like it to me!"

Her boyfriend squeezed her other hand tightly. "Honey, please. I'm begging you – don't!" Surprised, she turned to face Xander – and she was shocked by the look of naked fear on his face. "It wasn't like this, uh – earlier. Before you showed up here, I mean. There was just – a great big nothingness! I couldn't see, I couldn't talk, I couldn't – wait. First things, first. Who are we talking to?" he asked, looking up at nothing in particular. "Could you please identify yourself?"

" _Very well. Your mate has never met Me, but she knows of Me. And you met Me once, in a manner of speaking,"_ their invisible host stated. _"I am the Goddess of War, Prophecy and Death."_

The air shimmered and sparkled, and suddenly a familiar black woman was standing in front of them. She then said in that echoing, reverberating voice, _"Otherwise known to some – especially the mad Seer – as the Dark Lady."_

"Madam Devora?" she gasped. "But, uh, I thought you were dead?" A very creepy feeling suddenly shot through her, the same way it did whenever the Sunnydale weirdness reared its ugly head –

"No. That's not Madam Devora, Cor," her boyfriend shook his head. "Trust me, I can tell. This is just a – an image. Something we can focus on and relate to, rather than just looking around at empty air. Am I right?"

" _You are,"_ the Dark Lady's avatar nodded. _"It would seem I chose wisely, Defender of Mankind, in selecting you as My Speaker in the mortal realm."_

"You mean, YOU were the one who cursed my Doofus that way?!" she demanded angrily.

"Cordy!" Xander hissed at her, drawing her closer. "Remember that demon hunter, Sid, and what he said to us? You _**don't**_ want to piss off bloodthirsty gods in any way, shape or form!"

" _Indeed. Continue on like this, and you may come to regret My retrieving your soul from the Pit,"_ the Dark Lady said warningly.

"What?" she said in confusion.

" _As I said, you are both dead. Your mate because he channelled the power of the Seed of Wonder through himself, in order to fulfill his destiny – and you because the undead Seer arranged for you to be slain, as an act of petty revenge,"_ the so-called goddess told her. _"Having you thrown down into the depths of Tiamat's Maw did not, however, please Me. That is part of why I arranged for your souls to be reunited here in My realm."_

"I channelled..." the Dorkhead said uncertainly.

" _Yes. Every vampire in your world is now extinct, Defender of Mankind, as you and your friends intended,"_ the Dark Lady replied blandly.

"Yeah, but I was – sacrificed – in order for it to happen," Xander said dazedly. "In a way, we both were?"

"Hang on, rewind! If we really are dead – just for the sake of argument, mind you – then where exactly is this realm of yours? And you said that was only _**part**_ of the reason why we were – reunited. What's the other part?" she asked, heeding her boyfriend's advice and trying to be as polite as possible.

" _My realm is merely one slice of the Ultimate Dream – or as you might know it, the Cosmic All. Do not ask Me to explain it further – you would not be able to grasp the concepts involved. As for your other question, it behooved Me to do so, and it did not involve any significant expenditure of time and effort. Your souls were already linked, after all."_

"Linked how?" Xander asked, as she instinctively curled an arm around his waist.

" _By blood, sex, and magic,"_ the Dark Lady replied. _"Not to mention Saynday's binding."_

"What?" Cordelia asked in confusion.

" _When I Spoke to your mate's grandmother that day, she learned that she would never see either you or her grandson again; that you would both die soon in order to make your world a better place. From a human perspective, anyway. She then performed a binding ceremony, invoking the Names of her gods and ancestors. Of course, the ceremony was not_ _ **magically**_ _binding until your mate gave you his grandmother's wedding ring, and you accepted it. Nonetheless, the rite worked as she intended, creating a link of that type."_

Cordy felt her brain seize up. Xander's grandmother had _**known**_ what would happen to them? And she'd said nothing, and done nothing, to prevent it? No, no way, she couldn't accept that! She refused to accept that Mrs. Lambert would do something like that to _**her**_ , let alone her own flesh and blood! That was just – well, totally unthinkable!

"I don't believe it," Xander shook his head, echoing her thoughts. "Grandma wouldn't have done that. No way!"

" _What you choose to believe is irrelevant,"_ the Dark Lady shook her – Madam Devora's – head immediately. _"What is relevant is what you choose to do next."_

"Meaning?" she asked, not sure if she actually wanted to know.

The Dark Lady gestured, and the double doors of the library swung open. But instead of the familiar school corridor she'd been expecting to see, there was nothing but a white void visible. It stretched out endlessly, and she felt a weird magnetic pull towards it –

"Lemme guess. We walk through Door Number One, and we begin our next grand adventure," Xander said tightly, holding her hand and preventing her from moving forward.

" _You enter the peace and eternal rest of your concept of Heaven, yes. There is, however, an alternative."_

Her eyes growing wide, Cordelia somehow tore her gaze away from the enticing view beyond the library's doors. "An alternative? What?"

" _First, I must explain. Your mate already knows part of this, thanks to who and what he is, but you do not,"_ the so-called goddess said, staring directly at her. _"The reality you know is only part of the multi-dimensional infinity of your universe."_

"What?" She didn't get that at all.

"Wait, are you talking about alternate realities? The stuff Jesse and I used to read about in comic books, and our gaming sessions with Jonathan and the rest of the D 'n D crowd?" Xander asked in surprise.

" _Yes. Consider the following as an analogy; there are many radio stations in the reality you used to live in, and the radio waves carrying their signals all share the same physical space. But since they are all on different wavelengths, they remain separate. It is the same with alternate realities; they all occupy the same physical space, but remain separate thanks to existing on different 'wavelengths', so to speak. Do you follow Me so far?"_

"Yeah, I guess. But why are you telling me all this?" Cordelia wanted to know.

" _So that you can truly understand the choice which you and your mate face. I cannot send you back to your own reality; you are both dead there, and your physical bodies no longer exist. And despite Death being part of My demesne, I cannot alter the balance that much by arbitrarily resurrecting you both; My recent bargain with the Powers That Be precludes it. However, there are other realities; ones which require the presence of a Xander Harris and a Cordelia Chase. Realities which do not necessarily have a Jesse McNally or an Aura White, who will have to take over your roles within the reality you originated from."_

Cordelia's eyes went wide. "Say what?"

"I'd like to ask a question," Xander spoke up, before she could demand whether this so-called goddess had totally lost her mind.

" _Speak."_

"What do _**you**_ get out of it, if we choose to accept your – alternative?" he asked politely. "No offense, but in my experience, nobody ever does something for nothing. Plus, you've been using me as your mouthpiece for nearly a year, so – what? If we accept your offer, does the whole Oracle thing start up all over again? You _**did**_ say it was a lifetime gig way back when, if I recall right."

" _You are partially correct. You chose to become My Voice by drinking the sacred water of Coventina, even if that was mostly due to disbelief and ignorance on your part. But that was_ _ **a**_ _lifetime commitment. In this second lifetime, if you and your mate choose to accept My offer, you have My promise that I will not interfere in your life – in both your lives – that way. For whatever that promise is worth to you. And whatever powers your soul has absorbed from being My Oracle up until now, they are yours to use as you see fit. And as for what I get out of it..."_

"Yes?" Cordelia asked, temporarily putting aside the whole issue of alternate realities and the rest of what she'd just heard.

" _You could call it enlightened self-interest,"_ the Dark Lady replied. _"There are many upcoming wars, prophecies and deaths which require the presence of a Xander Harris, no matter which reality I concern Myself with. And before you ask, I know that because the Elder Gods and Lesser Gods are not just higher beings carrying out the duties of office; we_ _ **are**_ _our offices. I_ _ **am**_ _War, Prophecy and Death, in a very real sense."_

"Gilail," Xander said, before blinking in confusion. "Where did that come from?"

" _Irrelevant. And that is not my true Name, although it sufficed for the mad Seer to briefly summon Me into a mortal vessel."_ The image of Madam Devora briefly morphed into a little girl with blonde hair, before resuming Fortune-teller Lady's features.

"Okay, can I just say one thing? Why me?" she suddenly wanted to know. "What use is plain old Cordelia Chase to someone like you?"

" _Despite the lack of any supernatural qualities, you could still potentially play a role that would benefit Me; and as I said, your souls are linked. What affects one affects the other. And a nexus of Chaos such as your mate is much too valuable to waste eventually going mad from sensing your eternal pain, as a consequence of your soul being trapped within the Pit."_

"Well, I guess that pretty much explains that," Xander nodded, even if she could tell he was trying to deal – and failing badly – with everything they'd just learned. "I mean, never mind me; but a world without Cordelia Chase in it? It'd end up a total fashion-victim nightmare, if nothing else!"

"Knock it off, Dumbass!" she whacked him slightly with her free hand. Then she calmed down and asked the Big Dummy, "So, what do you think? Heaven, or the other place?"

Xander stared at her, and the loving expression that suddenly appeared on his face almost made her insides melt. "We never did get married and have all those children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren which Madam Devora said might show up in our lives, did we? Call me crazy, but I'd like to experience all that before I start playing a harp on that cloud outside there," he gestured towards the white void. "And sure, Hellmouth all over again, but all our friends and family are there. Plus, do you _**really**_ want to meet up with Wesley again at this point, and have to listen to him talk about magic and demons and everything else? For the rest of eternity?"

She shuddered. "Well, when you put it that way..."

He kissed her, and suddenly all her doubts were gone. Maybe their souls _**were**_ linked now, or something... all Cordelia knew was that wherever her boyfriend – lover – future husband – went, she would follow. And wherever she went, _**he**_ would likewise follow. So letting go of his lips, she told him, "I just realized something deep and meaningful, Dork. After everything that's happened, home for me is wherever you are."

"Heh. Just like home for me is wherever you are, sweetheart," Xander nodded and smiled.

"Shall we go home, then? Or wherever it is exactly we'll end up?" she asked, eyebrows raised.

" _It will be a reality where the native versions of Xander Harris and Cordelia Chase are destined to die, and you will show up in their bodies at the last possible moment to take over their lives. Your lives, in a sense. Just in case you were wondering,"_ the Dark Lady interjected.

"Well, gee, that sounds comforting. Not!" Cordy groaned to herself. "What, does that mean I'll end up doing the whole time-share thing in my own body again? 'Cause I had enough of _**that**_ crap with the whole Hyena thing!"

" _No. You will be yourself, in your own body. The same for your mate; no conflicting memories of the past from your alternate selves, or anything like that. It would not serve My interests for either of you to end up schizophrenic, after all,"_ the Dark Lady announced.

"All right, what the hell," she said, after thinking it over one last time. "Let's do it."

"Okay," Xander said. He looked over at the so-called goddess. "Send us –"

Less than a moment after the two of them had vanished from sight, the so-called library vanished from existence as well.

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School library, Alternate universe**

 **May 30** **th** **, 1997**

Cordelia Chase was terrified, although she was determined not to show it.

Her boyfriend Kevin Benedict had been murdered by vampires yesterday, and she herself almost killed by the monsters earlier tonight. Luckily, she had managed to get away from them in her car, and had picked up Willow and Ms. Calendar along the way before blasting through the main doors of the school to take refuge in the library. "Why are they coming here?"

The school librarian, Giles, more or less ignored her. "I need to secure my office!" He then hurried off to make sure the bad guys couldn't enter through the window there.

{ _This sucks!_ } she thought to herself, still standing near the double doors; which had been barricaded with a couple of bookcases. But then a vampire punched through the glass and grabbed her around the neck. "Somebody, help!" she gurgled, trying to scream.

But just as the vampire was about to strangle her to death – a miracle occurred, and as one soul departed to the afterlife, another took its place within the corporeal vessel. A soul alien to this reality, but much better to prepared to survive the 'night life' of the Hellmouth than its counterpart.

Growling angrily, Cordelia just barely managed to move the hand strangling her upwards enough to sink her teeth into the undead flesh. The vampire immediately screamed and let go of her, withdrawing its arm out of the library. { _See how_ _ **you**_ _like it!_ }

Cordelia took in the chaos and destruction, as well as the sight of a huge, green, multi-headed and tentacled demon bursting through the library floor. Trying not to panic mindlessly, she then saw one tentacle heading for an unsuspecting, familiar-looking redhead – and so she immediately screamed, "WILLOW, BEHIND YOU!"

* * *

 **Stairwell leading to the Sunnydale High roof, Alternate universe**

 **The same time**

Xander Harris was pretty sure he was going to die, but as long as Buffy lived, that was okay as far as he was concerned.

Akela's _**teeth**_ , but tonight had been enough to convince him that Murphy was a malicious bastard out to screw him over every chance he got. First, he'd heard a prophecy that the Master was gonna get loose and destroy the world – and kill Buffy, which was pretty much the same thing in his book. By the time he'd convinced Angel – pathetic cowardly vampire, even if the undead guy had his uses – to guide him down to the Master's lair, it had been too late and Buffy had been bitten and drowned.

Thank God he'd managed to bring her back with CPR. But as soon as he'd done so, she'd hurled herself into Angel's arms and thanked Dead Boy for bringing _**him**_ down to the Master's lair! Still, as long as she was alive, that was the important thing –

Along with preventing the end of the world tonight, of course.

{ _Oh, crap, here they come,_ } he thought to himself in fear and resignation, as two soulless vampires headed for him and Angel. Giving his temporary partner a quick look, he recalled Buffy's orders – to keep the undead off her back while she dealt with the Master. No matter what.

Angel started to fight one of them, while the other rushed forward and jumped onto his back. Instinctively, he held up his cross to her and she jumped off, snarling. While Dead Boy continued to fight his opponent, he tried to punch El Vampira – but the soulless _**thing**_ was too quick, and avoided the blow. A quick swipe of her arm, and the cross went flying – and then she tackled him to the ground.

He could _**smell**_ her foul blood breath, as her fangs headed straight for his jugular –

And then, a miracle occurred, as his soul departed and another seamlessly arrived in its place.

Xander Harris's eyes turned green and started to sparkle and shimmer, before an ear-splitting _**noise**_ erupted out of his mouth and caused the female vampire to stop and clutch at her ears in agony, just like Angel and his opponent not far away –

Xander rolled out of the way, instinctively reached for a stake, and then he dispatched his undead attacker by stabbing her in the heart. Still screaming, he took out the other soulless vampire present, who – just like Angel – was incapacitated by the mystical weapon at his command. The moment the coast was clear, he stopped screaming and moved to help his ally get up. "Liam, you okay?"

The startled look on his friend's face made Xander think, { _Oh, Toto – I don't think we're in Kansas no more!_ }

* * *

 **Sunnydale High roof, Alternate universe**

 **A short time earlier**

The Master was feeling exultant, with freedom being his again; at long last. The inevitable prophecy in the Pergamum Codex had been fulfilled. Namely, the Slayer had come to him, and he had killed her. And the best bit was seeing her face upon being informed that he couldn't have escaped his underground prison without her willing venture into certain doom.

{ _Her blood was utterly delicious. Haven't tasted anything like it since the 1700's,_ } Heinrich thought to himself in blissful satisfaction. { _Too bad I didn't spend more time draining her dry, but then I_ _ **was**_ _in such a hurry to come here and see this beautiful sight..._ }

The Master looked down through the skylight into the library, watching the three-headed Hellmouth demon doing battle with the humans. "Yes. Come forth, my child. Come into my world!"

"I don't think it's yours just yet."

The Master turned around in surprised disbelief. { _THE SLAYER?!_ }

Indeed it was. The somewhat wet and bedraggled girl stood very much alive before him, in her white Prom dress. He couldn't believe it –

"You're dead!" Heinrich finally said, his mouth still stained with the Chosen One's blood.

"I may be dead, but I'm still pretty. Which is more than I can say for you," the annoying brat retorted.

"You were destined to die! It was written!" The Master still couldn't quite believe this was happening.

The Slayer shrugged. "What can I say? I flunked the written."

The Master growled and reached his arm out to try his hypnosis on her again, like he'd successfully done in that underground church a few minutes before. "Come here!"

"You have fruit punch mouth," the Chosen One said in a curious tone of voice.

He didn't get that. "What?"

She swung a wide, hard punch straight to his mouth, knocking him down. "Save the hypnosis crap for the tourists!"

As he got up, she did a swinging roundhouse kick that connected squarely with his face. Heinrich angrily swiped back at her and even though the impertinent child jerked backwards, he still managed to slice her across her upper right breast, drawing blood. { _That must have weakened her. All right, time to finish this!_ }

He went to grab her around the neck, but she ducked and punched him in the kidney. Roaring, Heinrich punched her back in the jaw. Staggering back a bit, she tried to punch him again; but he blocked the blow and slammed his fist into the Slayer's face, sending her flying back into the wall behind her. "Where are your jibes now?"

He stalked forward, enjoying the look of fear on her face. "My Hell is finally come upon this Earth, and there's nothing you can do to sto-"

At that moment, a horrible, agonizing _**noise**_ from the direction of the stairs assaulted his hearing, and he was distracted trying to block it out. That moment was all which the Slayer needed to rush forward and hit him with a jaw-breaking punch. Then she grabbed him by the neck and flipped him over her head, straight down through the skylight. "I can send ya to Hell first, asshole!"

The Master roared with fury all over again as he fell, before he hit the jagged remains of a table down below and got impaled through the heart by a random shard of wood. His leathery undead flesh slowly turned to ashes, until there was nothing but a skeleton left.

As his essence made its way back to the dark hell of its origin, Heinrich's fury continued to grow; unable to handle the fact that the Slayer had actually _**defeated**_ him in battle!

* * *

 **Sunnydale High School library, Alternate universe**

 **A short while later**

Cordelia wasn't quite sure what to think, as she helped Willow and Mr. Giles and Ms. Calendar remove the various barricades that had been set up around here.

For one thing, as soon as that ugly-ass vampire had crashed through the skylight and inadvertently staked itself, the battleground had suddenly gone quiet as that three-headed _**nightmare**_ withdrew back under the floor. The vampires had quickly split the scene as well; although why they'd decided to attack the high school library in the first place, she _**still**_ had no idea –

{ _This isn't your world, remember?_ } Cordy reminded herself, trying to shove the bookcase out of the way of the double doors. _{ Unless that meeting with that so-called goddess was a_ _ **really**_ _weird out-of-body experience or whatever, both me and my boyfriend are now living in a brand new reality. Who knows just how different things are here? Well, hopefully, they're not_ _ **too**_ _different –_ }

"Ugghhh!" she groaned, finally shoving the bookcase out of the way. And the very next moment, all was suddenly right with the universe –

"Cordy!" her boyfriend yelled, as he came running through the double doors.

"Xander, you're here! Oh, thank God!" She squealed in delight and started kissing the hell out of him. When they finally came up for air, she said breathlessly, "I was kinda worried something might have gone wrong –"

"WHAT ARE YOU TWO DOING!?" Willow's horrified voice suddenly distracted her from whatever else she'd been about to say.

Briefly undergoing a flashback from months ago, when Willow had said that exact same thing after she and McNally had found them kissing outside the school gymnasium, Cordelia thought to herself, { _Uh-oh. It sounds like all that happened never happened here? Darn, here we go again..._ }

Cordelia – still holding her boyfriend in her arms – turned around to face the shocked and upset-looking redhead, along with the confused-looking Mr. Giles and Ms. Calendar. Then Buffy and Liam came into the library, and _**they**_ started looking at her and Xander like they were freak show exhibits as well! { _Well, I don't do comforting bullshit, so what the hell –_ }

"I'm kissing my boyfriend, Willow. The guy I love, and who loves me. I'm guessing that's what is totally weirding you out?" she asked calmly.

"You, you- buh- lo- you, you can't- this isn't –" Nerd Girl started to hyperventilate, before charging forward as if to drag Xander away from her. But the Dweeb abruptly pushed her behind him, as his features became focused and determined.

"I have something to say. And it's probably not something you people are gonna like hearing," he said, causing Willow to come to a screeching halt. "The truth is – I'm Xander Harris, and this is my girlfriend, Cordelia Chase. And we're _**not**_ the Xander and Cordelia you people are familiar with; we come from another world, a different reality. Plus, the people you knew – we're inhabiting their bodies, but they're – gone."

"Gone? What do you mean, _**gone?!**_ " Buffy demanded, stepping forward with an angry look on her face.

"It's a long, _**long**_ story, Buff," he shook his head. "See, it all started roughly a year ago, during Midsummer's Day –"

"Hang on! Liam – you're still a walking corpse here," Cordelia interrupted Xander's speech, staring at the hunk in question. By this point, she could recognize the unnatural pallor of the undead. "You didn't become human again, like the Liam in our world did?"

"The name's Angel. And no." The vampire shook his head briefly. "I was never offered that – opportunity – which my counterpart apparently was."

"What? Angel, don't tell me you actually _**believe**_ any of this garbage?!" Buffy demanded hotly.

"Of course I do," he nodded once. "It's the only rational explanation, after all."

"WHAT?!" everyone except for herself and Xander demanded.

"Look at them, Buffy. I mean, _**really**_ look at them. Their body language, if nothing else. Both of them are obviously different people now," Angel told her. "And there are other things; for example, they both know me as 'Liam', and that's a name I haven't used for over two centuries. Plus, Xander hasn't looked at me even once with his usual expression of disgust and jealousy –"

"Jealousy?" Xander interrupted, looking confused. "Why would I be jealous of you?"

"Your counterpart – the Xander Harris of this world – he was hopelessly in love with Buffy," the vampire explained bluntly. "But she didn't return his feelings –"

"Okay, HOLD IT!" Willow abruptly yelled, interrupting the guy. The redhead glared at her boyfriend – and her, to a lesser extent – before saying, "I wanna know, where's the real Xander? 'Cause I'm convinced now that I don't actually know you, mister; and, and if you really are involved with this b-i-t-c-h, then I'm pretty sure I don't _**want**_ to know you! As far as I'm concerned, you're just – look, all I want from you is to bring my Xander back right now, and then you can return home to the crazy-ridiculous world you came from. So do it – or, or else!"

He tried to hide it, but Cordelia could tell how the Dork was hurt by the fury and vitriol present in his oldest friend's voice. Well, no, not _**his**_ oldest friend. It definitely was going to take a while for that to sink into his Xander-shaped brain, she was certain; that _**this**_ Willow Rosenberg wasn't on his side. Their side. Whatever.

Maybe that would change in the future – but for some reason, she rather doubted it. Especially after the hacker heard –

"Sorry, Willow, but that's not possible," she said as gently as she could, as all eyes turned to look at her. "The Xander you knew is gone for good. Ditto the Cordelia you knew. Not that that matters much to you, I'm sure; it's pretty obvious we're not friends here, like we were back in my reality."

"You were friends with – with your Willow?" Buffy openly gaped at her.

"Yeah. Well, sort of. We ended up – tolerating each other, I guess would be the best way to put it. For Xander's sake," she clarified, as her boyfriend put his arm around her again. "But getting back on topic, that so-called Dark Lady – the Goddess of War, Prophecy and Death, if that's what she really was – she told us that the Xander and Cordelia of this world were destined to _**die**_ tonight. If my boyfriend and I had decided not to accept her offer to insert our souls into this reality after we died in ours, at the very last moment before they would have been killed? Then there'd be nothing but a couple of dead bodies on the floor, right now. I know you don't like it, Willow, but that's the truth – and there's nothing you or anyone else can do to change it. Well, unless you're willing to go head to head against a god who can apparently possess people – which is something that kills them, roughly a day later!"

Looking like she was about to burst into hot, scalding tears, Willow immediately fled the library. Giving her a hard look, Buffy ran after Nerd Girl and likewise vanished from sight.

"Well, um... this, this is most extraordinary," Mr. Giles spoke up, sharing a look with Ms. Calendar. She suddenly had the sneakiest suspicion that those two weren't together in this reality as the Watcher added, "If I may, I, I'd like to talk with you both in detail about this. I, err, I very much doubt we've heard the full story, so far –"

"Mr. Giles? What's the what with you and Ms. Calendar? I mean, has she told you the real reason why she came to Sunnydale, way back when?" Cordelia interrupted.

"What? What are you talking about?" the Tweed Guy asked in confusion, as the Computer Science teacher – former? – suddenly turned white. "And, uh, _**Mister**_ Giles? Good Lord, you two really aren't from around here; nobody calls me that –"

"He doesn't know. And I'm willing to bet none of them do," Xander interrupted, before turning to Li- Angel. "Has anyone told you about your curse yet? The one those gypsies did to give you your soul back?"

"What? What are you saying?!" Ms. Calendar burst out in alarm, before she noticed everyone staring at her and she almost cringed. "I mean, uh..."

"Angel's soul isn't permanently attached. And in our world, before he became human – well, apparently he was destined to lose it, and kill you next February," Cordelia told her bluntly.

Now white as a sheet, Ms. Calendar immediately ran out of the library, and Mr. Giles chased after her – very much like Buffy had chased after Willow – leaving her and Xander alone with Angel.

"You're serious, aren't you?" the vampire demanded, looking horrified.

"Well, yeah. It's not like that's a joking matter, is it? Although Jesse would probably –" Xander then looked around in alarm. "Oh, man, where's Jesse? And Aura, while we're at it?"

"Who're Jesse and Aura?" Angel asked blankly.

{ _Oh, crap!_ } She shared a look with her boyfriend that communicated volumes. { _Okay, don't automatically assume the worst, like they're dead or whatever! Maybe..._ }

"Jesse and Aura are our friends; at least, they were in our reality..." Xander trailed off, looking uncertain.

"Ah. That might explain why I don't know them; I have no idea what my counterpart got up to in your reality, but here, I've had to keep my distance from everybody apart from Buffy's Watcher. Anyway, if what you've told me is true – that my soul isn't permanently bound – then I need to leave town," the undead guy said, looking more worried than ever. "I don't know if those gypsies cursed me the same way they did your Angel, but the odds are in favor of it; and if that's the case, I'm not safe to be around –"

"Uh, hang on. Before you like disappear off back to Los Angeles, or wherever? Buddy, we need to talk," Xander said firmly. "Like, have Spike and Drusilla showed up here? The way they did in our world?"

"No," Angel immediately shook his head. "I haven't seen either of them in decades, I – damn. Those two might be coming to the Hellmouth? That means I can't leave yet. And you're right, we _**do**_ need to talk. And – wait, back to Los Angeles? What-?"

"That's where you ended up living in our world, after you became human," her boyfriend said helpfully.

"I left Buffy behind? Why?" Soul Boy asked in confusion.

"Well, when you were a vamp, she wanted to stake you with extreme prejudice; soul or no soul," Cordelia shrugged. "Pretty much hate at first sight, after my boyfriend did the whole Oracle thing and warned her about you earlier that day."

"Huh? Oracle thing?" Angel's jaw dropped.

Xander exhaled loudly. "Like I said a few minutes ago; long, _**long**_ story. Complicated as hell, too."

The vampire shrugged. "I've got the time, if you want to tell it. As a matter of fact, right now – I've got nothing _**but**_ time on my hands. If you two want, we can go to my apartment and discuss it?"

"Shall we, Pinky?" Cordelia asked her boyfriend with a mischievous smile.

"Gee, I dunno, Brain," Xander drawled, making her smile. "Besides, are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I think so, Pinky. But this time, we're having sex in my bed, and you have to put on the condom," she replied with a perfectly straight face.

Both of them slowly grinned, started to snicker, and then burst out laughing. Angel stared at them like they were nuts, before his features shifted into bemused curiosity. "I assume there's a story behind that particular remark?"

"Yeah, you better believe it," Xander replied as he took her in his arms, before briefly twirling her around.

Breaking free with a smile on her face, Cordelia turned to face Angel and gestured impatiently. "Lead the way. My boyfriend and I will be right behind you."

* * *

The End


End file.
